When The Good Times Stop
by ScribbleDibble
Summary: Nearly two months after meeting at Lake Iroquois, the gang goes back to school, hoping to make it the best year ever. But there's still some unfinished business.
1. Chapter One: Guys Unite

I seem to be constantly doing similar things to SparklingDiamond. Trust me, it's coincidence, this story is nothing like the sequel to Why Can't I... but it is THE SEQUEL TO 'THE LAKE'!!  
  
**Note, I know in the States they have like eight classes a day in high school or something, but in Canada they have four (twice as long) so I'm writing it that way, because that's the only way I've ever really known.**  
  
Chapter One  
  
"Breath check?" Tod asked his five friends, holding out a pack of mint gum. Instantly, everyone made a grab for the gums.  
  
"Hey, where's Carter?" Tod's brother, George asked, looking around, then sighed. "I guess he's with his football friends."  
  
George looked just past his girlfriend, Clear Rivers, out to the parking lot to see Carter Horton hanging around with his buds from the football team. He turned back to Clear, Tod, Alex Browning, Terry Chaney, and Billy Hitchcock. "Man, I hate being right."  
  
"What can you expect?" Terry asked with her hands on her hips and a slightly dissapointed frown, "I mean, we had fun with him this summer and all, but he's got his other friends. And... you can't expect him to want to hang around with only us."  
  
Billy yawned, wanting to change the subject. "I woke up too early this morning," he grumbled. He looked at his watch. Eight-fifteen. Yesterday, at that time, he was in deep sleep, head under his pillow, not waking up until lunch time. Today, though, he woke up at six-thirty, and dragged himself through the morning routine that lead him to Mount Aberham High School... first day of tenth grade.  
  
Tod smiled through his exhaust. "You know, Alex, you were right about fifteen not being a signifigant birthday, but tenth grade is pretty awesome. Like, we are FINALLY a higher ranking than others. We can finally be looked up to by someone."  
  
Alex smirked. "Maybe if you brush your teeth once in awhile..."  
  
Everyone laughed and they walked together into the school.  
  
The group had been tight since summertime. It had been an awkward way of meeting each other on their trips to Lake Iroqouis. Clear, who hadn't been close to any of them, was visiting her stepgrandmother. Tod, George, and Alex were all there together. Billy was working there. Terry was camping with her former best friend, Erika Hannamn. Carter was with his cousin, Mark. Through a long chain of events, they left the lake as friends... and Terry and Billy and Clear and George left as couples.  
  
It had been one fun summer. Parties, barbacues... good times all around. They were perfect ingredients to make this school year a blast.  
  
Terry was the first to be noticed. The whole group was not used to really being noticed. They were real blips. But Terry had been through a change this summer. She had left school at 170 pounds and come back 110. Billy, who thought that Terry was beautiful no matter what, still understood that Terry was embarassed about going to 'fat camp.' But he knew she would get over it--he hoped.  
  
A short boy with dark curly hair made a whistle at Terry. She blushed and didn't say anything. Clear groaned and fought the temptation to pound his face in, but she wasn't that kind of girl. Besides, she wanted to look cool around George... not that she had to pretend she was someone else around him.  
  
"Hey, Terry!" a popular girl, Alexa, said to her as she passed them, "You look pretty."  
  
Terry responded with a small smile and a 'thank you,' then the group continued to the auditorium. Not much happened on the way there, except that Tod proved that one cannot perform pathetic yo-yo tricks and walk at the same time.  
  
Once inside, the six sat down at the back, a row away from Carter.  
  
"Hey, Horton," Alex said plainly.  
  
Carter didn't even turn around.  
  
George tried not to look dissapointed, so he put on an 'I told you so' expression. Clear and Terry turned to each other and started talking about girl stuff. Tod crumpled up a piece of paper and tossed it at Christa Marsh. Alex made a similar action to Blake Dreyer. Billy took out a box of M+Ms and began to eat.  
  
No one acknowleged the fact that their former friend, Carter, had morphed back into his old jackass self. Tod was about to say something to Carter, but his brother gave him a look that said, 'drop it.' Immediately, he leaned back and remained silent.  
  
As the boring vice principal gave the usual speech, Clear turned her ear to Carter, talking with his friends.  
  
"So, Carter, man," his friend, Jimmy Parker, asked, "What kind of partying did you do this summer?"  
  
Carter, without a breath, laughed, and said, "Aw, man, me and my cousin had this awesome fuckin' cottage... it was like, parties every night, and he hooked up with this hot surfer chick, and we had this one blowout with EVERYONE there, and I got so waisted..."  
  
Clear scoffed. The only part about that that was true was Mark hooking up with a surfer chick, Danielle. And she didn't take too much of a liking to Carter. Not at all. The parties? There was one, and Mark got arrested for it.  
  
Getting waisted? Carter had been put on cop watch that night. He had not even been offered booze, nor did he have the guts to take any. Alex and George stayed dry that night as well, only drinking sodas, since they had a feeling they would need responsibility. Clear and Terry got drunk, ironically, the event that brought the two (and Clear and George) together. It had also gotten them their navel rings. Billy also got a little smashed, resulting in him getting fired from the tuck shop and a face full of dog pee. Tod had given away after two beers and three shots. Not the ideal evening.  
  
Clear looked at George with a raised eyebrow, as if to say, 'are you hearing this?' George smiled a little, and looked into his girlfriends deep eyes. Clear was having a hard time lately. She wasn't getting along with her new stepdad, Colin.  
  
After an eternity of silence, but not necesserily listening to what the speakers had to say, they picked up their bags and headed to... tenth grade.  
  
***  
  
"Homeroom," Alex muttered, matching the number on the door to the number on his sheet. His science teacher was his homeroom teacher. That meant that science would be ten minutes longer than his other classes. He hated science.  
  
Billy showed up behind him, biting his lip and looking frazzled. "I can't believe I've been going to this school for a year and I'm still getting lost."  
  
That was Billy for you. Slightly slow. His heart was never to hard to find, even though he couldn't find the shoes on his feet if you asked him to.  
  
"You'll be fine, Billy," Alex assured him, knowing he was lying. Still, they walked in and paired up at a table. The table sat three. When Carter walked by, Billy pulled out a chair.  
  
"Saved you a seat, Carter!" Billy said shyly.  
  
Carter laughed and joined his (other) friends.  
  
"Fuck," Billy and Alex said to each other. They ended up being joined by Rory Peters, who was nearly eighteen and supposed to be out of school by now. But he was still wollowing away in tenth grade... the few times that he actually came to class, though, he was a riot.  
  
"Hey, Peters," Alex greeted, as if they were old friends.  
  
"Browning," Rory said tiredly with a nod before leaning forward on the stool and slowly closing his eyes, as if going to sleep. The respect they had for each other was uncanny--they didn't really know each other. It was something guys did, always unite, stick together, that kind of thing. The thing Carter should have been doing. 


	2. Chapter Two: Four Walls Filled With Pain

Dharkie, my first reviewer! Hoo-freakin'-ray! I don't mind insulting Canada, sing the South Park song! I'm used to it--if I were that touchy about this crappy nation I live in (though we aren't in a war right now! Nyah nyah!) I wouldn't like Simpsons so much!  
  
And a gun? A GUN? Haven't you seen Bride of Chuckey? You have to be like Martha Stewart when murdering people if ya wanna go down in history! You gotta improvise! I'll be hunting around my daddy's toolshed, then I'll finish the story, THEN I'll fly to England.  
  
Chapter Two  
  
By the second day of school, Clear remembered why she prefered summer.  
  
Homework.  
  
Her, Tod, George, and Alex were in Alex's room, moaning over the one subject they all had together, algebra. Clear and George were sitting across each other on Alex's identical beanbag chairs. Clear was casually copying George's answers, but they had all hit a rough spot.  
  
Clear clicked her unpainted, uncut fingernail against her teeth, trying to do the sum in her head. George was writing down possible formulas, not seeming to be satisfied. Tod and Alex were groaning in frustration until Tod snapped his fingers.  
  
"Got it!" he exclaimed, "X=23, A=9."  
  
"Yes," Clear sighed, "Finally."  
  
George rolled his eyes. "You're the smartest one here. If you could just get a calculator--"  
  
"I HAVE a calculator," Clear insisted, "Who doesn't? I just... can't find it."  
  
Alex, who was sitting at his desk, picked up Clear's blue school bag. "This thing's fuckin' heavy," he observed, "It's gotta be in here somewhere." With a great deal of effort, he tossed it to the brunette. Clear unzipped it and looked through.  
  
The guys watched in amazement as she pulled out sets of keys, papers, jewelery, nail polish, and, perhaps the oddest item in there, a dog collar. Finally, she yelped in joy, dropping her sheet music from her mouth.  
  
"You found your calculator?" George asked.  
  
"No," Clear said with a proud grin, holding up a small black object that looked like a warped clothespin, "My capo. I haven't been able to find this since July."  
  
George bit his lip and peered into her now empty school bag. "So, little miss organized, I'm guessing the calculator isn't in there?"  
  
"Since when are you so forgetfull?" Tod asked, thinking of how organized she appeared to be in ninth grade.  
  
"Oh," Clear said softly, "Things are just crazy right now. Like, I've got my guitar lessons, and piano lessons, and homework, and I'm thinking of taking a few art classes--"  
  
"Don't think." George said immediately. "You've got enough to do."  
  
Clear blushed. "I guess I need time for friends, too. And, you George."  
  
Tod groaned. It was a standard reaction to when things got "fluffy" with his brother and Clear. There were two things that Tod couldn't handle: alcohol, and love. George hoped that Tod would get a girlfriend soon enough so that he could understand that people were entitled to be mushy once in a while.  
  
Clear's watch suddenly beeped. "Shit. Six o'clock. I've gotta get home and start dinner."  
  
Tod laughed a little. "Clear, that's was moms are for."  
  
Clear didn't even bother giving him the talk on why that was sexist. She just said a quick good-bye and left. She took her usual route, one that had taken her two weeks to find. It was a complicated one, but it got her home in less than ten minutes. She went out the window, along the side of the roof, down the ladice, over the fence, through the park, across the small stream, and into the back yard of her house.  
  
Not her home.  
  
The place was just four walls filled with pain. Physical and emotional.  
  
Not getting along with Colin was not the case. Okay, the two didn't like each other, but it went beyond arguments. Imagine having a daily fistfight with your stepdad. Imagine never wearing tank tops because you were too embarassed of the bruises on your shoulder. Imagine a hard game you could never win, but there was always someone who made you play it.  
  
That was the life of Clear Rivers.  
  
She opened the back door to find Colin in there, sitting in the big blue armchair that used to belong to her father. She loved the way that he would sit in there, all relaxed and happy, like he was the king of the world. Colin looked like he was king of the world as well--a high, holy ruler that was ready to command and punish. He scared the shit out of Clear, and she would never let him know that.  
  
"You're late," he said impatiently, whiskey rolling off his breath.  
  
'I never knew what whiskey smelled like 'till he came along,' Clear thought to herself, 'and I shoudln't.' She glared at her stepfather.  
  
"Well, get started on the friggin' dinner!"  
  
Clear looked fiercly at him one more time, then did what she was told. So much for not letting him know that he didn't scare her.  
  
At dinner, he asked her to eat the meat. So she did. After, he asked her to do the dishes. So she did. He asked her to run out to the store and get him more pretzels. She did. He asked her to fetch him a beer. She did.  
  
She was sick of doing what she was told.  
  
***  
  
Terry closed her book proudly, finished her first little bit of homework for the year. She had to remind herself, of course, that this was a tenth of what she would be receiving in the future. But for now, she wanted to dance in joy, jump on her bed, pop a balloon full of confetti and CEEEEELEBRATE GOOD TIMES COMMON!  
  
But she didn't have any confetti, so she called Billy instead.  
  
"Hey, Terry," he said immediately. He must have had caller ID. "What's up?"  
  
"Does history homework blow or what?" she asked right away.  
  
Billy laughed. "I haven't even started it. Wanna--"  
  
"Come over and 'tutor' you? No problem."  
  
Going out for two months and aleardy they were reading each others minds. Amazing.  
  
Terry hung up, put on her sweater and her running shoes and ran out the door. The walk to Billy's was a quick one, ten minutes, and today was the perfect day for it. One of the last days of summer. Sunshine, warm-ish weather, people outside... perfect.  
  
The walk to her boyfriend's house was almost a nightly ritual. She couldn't remember NOT being this active. There was a time when she tried to excercise, but could never do it right. That was why camp had really changed her. The new "pretty" Terry was a lot more confident. But it came with a price.  
  
She tried once again to let go of the bad memories and kept walking until she saw...  
  
Erica Hannamn.  
  
Her former best friend.  
  
Erica was just as heavy as Terry used to be. She was also extremely jealous when Terry lost the weight. They hadn't spoken to each other since a heated argument at the lake. Terry didn't even tell Erica when she left from their ill fated camping trip.  
  
Terry tried not to freeze, but she did. Why was she intimidated by this girl? This girl was immature and mean-spirited. Terry wasn't. Slowly, she moved one foot, then the other, until she was walking again.  
  
"Hi, Erica," she said nonchalantly.  
  
"Hey, sellout," Erica grumbled.  
  
Terry stopped and spun around. "What did you call me?" she demanded.  
  
"Sell-out," Erica said slowly, as if she were talking to a five-year-old, "Which is exactly what you've become."  
  
Terry couldn't think of anything to say besides, "No, it's not."  
  
"Come on," Erica insisted, "Prancing around with all your new friends, and your boyfriend, pretending that you never were an outcast like me. You're just too good for all that shit, aren't you. Your friends should be worried--you're just going to ditch THEM once you're top of the pyramid or whatever. But then again, you might not BE a cheerleader--just 'cause you're a sack of bones doesn't mean you're talent. Your little friends don't deserve you."  
  
Terry's eyes were dry, and she knew if she blinked the tears would come. So she stuck her chin and peered at Erica, then spat out, "Fatarse."  
  
THEN she left.  
  
***  
  
Billy sat at his kitchen table, drumming his pencil over his history textbook. The whole thing made him want to puke. He knew Terry would be able to help him. She was really smart. If only he were like her!  
  
The back door opened and Terry called out a wavering 'hi.' Billy immediately knew something was wrong. Usually, she would burst in, cry a cheerful 'hello!' then pet his mom's pug dog, Henry. He inched his chair out and watched as Terry slumped angrily through the kitchen and opened the freezer.  
  
"Study food?" he asked as she pulled out a tub of heavenly hash ice cream.  
  
"Sure," she said boredly.  
  
Trying to be a gentleman, he stood up, got two bowls, and scooped out the ice cream, preparing them the way they usually took it--hardening fudge sauce for him, banana pieces and Cool Whip for Terry. Then he carried them to the table.  
  
Terry gazed at him, wondering how she would ever leave him. She would never be too good for him. If anything, she didn't deserve him.  
  
She bust into tears.  
  
'Oh no,' Billy thought desperately, 'She's... crying.' He looked at her, wondering what the hell he would do. Okay... should he ask what as wrong? No. She wouldn't answer anyways. Should he get her some tissues? No, that seemed kind of insulting. 'Just hug her, dumbass,' he told himself.  
  
So he hugged her.  
  
Finally, Terry choked down her last sob, and Billy was able to ask what was wrong.  
  
"Erica," Terry groaned, voice cracking, "She called me a sell-out, and said that I didn't deserve you and stuff..."  
  
"Well she's wrong," Billy insisted. That was all he could think of.  
  
That was all Terry needed. 


	3. Chapter Three: Impact

Chapter Three  
  
Long after she was finished her homework, Clear was still hunched over her desk in frustration, reaching a writer's block. Her new song was going nowhere. All she had so far was the first verse. The whole thing was a jumble of complicated words that she wondered how she would ever add a melody to. She tried to write one more line.  
  
'There's so much emotion I wish I could show/  
  
Please read my mind 'cause I don't even know.'  
  
She groaned. That was horrible! She slammed her notebook shut and kicked away from her desk, her rolling chair sliding to the digital piano in her room. It was the next closest thing to her guitar that she could find comfort in. If music were alive, it would be her best friend. For now, though, her best friend was George.  
  
She didn't understand why she couldn't talk about her problems with George. Things were so perfect with him, she didn't want to ruin it with her family problems. Complaining wasn't something she planned on doing. Not to George.  
  
She began a soft progression of broken chords until she was interrupted by her phone.  
  
"Dammit anyway," she muttered to herself and reached for her phone. "Hello?"  
  
"Clear?"  
  
"Oh, hi, George," Clear said, smiling.  
  
"Are you okay, Clear?" George asked her, the impact of his concerned voice hitting her like a falling sign, "You've been quieter than usual lately."  
  
"I'm fine," Clear said quickly.  
  
"You sure?" George asked, not convinced. "You're kind of acting like something's wrong."  
  
Clear sighed. She should tell him. She knew she should. But how did she just say, 'my stepdad beats the hell out of my mom and abuses me. That's why I've had a permanant frown lately.' It sounded so hard when she put it that way, but she couldn't keep secrets from her boyfriend... could she?  
  
Her eyes wandered around the room. They fell on one framed picture. The second most important one in her room. It sat on her piano next to the picture of her and her father when she was ten. This picture, though, was taken at her and the Waggner twins' birthday party that summer at the lake. Her, George, Tod, Terry, Alex, Carter, and Billy stood together in a group, beaming. Her arms were slung around George's shoulders. Her eyes glinted with elation, looking into George's. They were truly happy.  
  
Did she really want to bring in all this unhapiness into their relationship?  
  
"I've just been really tired," she told him. Not exactly a lie. A combination of insomnia and hearing crying from her mother's room as Colin yelled at her had made her into a baggy-eyed coffee freak over the past week.  
  
"Uh... okay," he said uncertainly, "Just call me if you want to... aw, man, that was lame."  
  
Clear laughed a little. "G'night, George."  
  
***  
  
"What are you guys doing?" Alex asked Rory and George, putting his schoolbag down on the table. It was a half hour before classes started, and they were in the common area. The few people that were there that early were generally in line in the servery getting their coffees or scones, you know, stuff that made them look cool.  
  
George had a ten dollar bill under his left hand and was writing furiously with his right hand. "I payed him to do my English homework," Rory exclaimed, a superiour smirk on his dark face.  
  
"Why George?" Alex asked curiously, "He gets okay marks, but... he sucks at English."  
  
Rory laughed. "Do you really think the teacher will believe it if I do a good paper? I just don't want to do it."  
  
George slammed his head down. "Done."  
  
"Heyy, thanks man," Rory said, accepting the paper. He gave a funny snort. "Uh, I better get going. My girlfriend wants me to meet her in the tower stairs." He raised his eyebrows. The tower stairs located near the woodshop were where most kids lost their virginity. All of the tower stairs were makeout central, but that one was legendary. The best advice any Mount Aberham Highschooler could give a freshman is don't go in the stairs during a spare. You are likely to be traumatized for life.  
  
"Women," Alex groaned. Not that he'd ever had a lot of dating experience, but he wanted to make conversation with SOMEONE.  
  
"They're such slave-drivers," Rory complained. "If we show the slightest bit of interest in another girl--like even a celebrity, we never hear the end of it."  
  
"And we can't watch movies that we like," Alex groaned. "I mean, just because people died in Swimfan didn't make it any less of a chick flick."  
  
"They're fuckin monsters," George put in.  
  
Alex looked at him strangely. "YOU'RE the one with the girlfriend."  
  
George blushed. "I don't know, things are weird. She's keeping secrets from me, I think. And she's been pretty moody."  
  
"Must be the time of the month," Rory said, expecting laughs. But Alex still looked at George intensly.  
  
"You think she's cheating on you?" Alex asked.  
  
George shuddered. Did Clear even know any other guys besides him and his friends? Still, the thought of him being cheated on was unsettling. "She's just being crabby and immature."  
  
"Time of the month," Rory repeated insistantly.  
  
"Smoothe," said a familiar voice from behind. "Very smoothe.  
  
George and Alex turned around to see Terry, a disgusted expression on her face, clearly the one who had made the comment. But the real focus was on Clear's sad face, her misty eyes, and an overall look of shock and insult in her.  
  
George's face said it all. 'Shit.'  
  
***  
  
"Clear, let me explain."  
  
George raced after Clear through the door into the main locker room. Clear wove through the banks of lockers, avoiding him.  
  
"You can't hide from me, Clear," he told her, "I go to this school, too. And I'm not going to let you go away."  
  
Clear stopped, staring daggers at him. "You were making fun of me. What more is there to explain?"  
  
She kept walking through another set of doors into a tower staircase.  
  
"Clear, stop this. By doing this you're just justifying what I was saying." He was shocked at how mature he sounded. "I was just telling those guys the truth."  
  
She looked like she was about to cry. "You don't know half of the truth!" she spat.  
  
His eyes fell. "Yeah," he whispered, "Exactly. You won't tell me. You can't expect me to know."  
  
She leaned her head back with a sigh. Was it time to tell him? "Okay, I've been going through some deep shit." She blinked back tears. "But I can't talk with you about it. I can't talk with anyone about it.  
  
He took her hands. "Why?"  
  
"I don't know!" she insisted, getting angry. "Look, when I first met you, I was thinking that I wanted someone to take care of me. Someone like a big brother. But I don't feel like being protected by now." She dropped her hands from George's. "By anyone."  
  
He looked at her with confusion, then, realization, then sadness. She was ending it.  
  
"Sorry George," she said softly, and with that, she walked up the stairs, away from George.  
  
George closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. He bend down on the floor and picked up a crumpled piece of paper.  
  
"DAMN IT!" he exclaimed angrily as he whipped the ball across the room.  
  
"Ahem," a deep voice asked from under the stairs. Two people were engaged in the usual liplocked tower ritual. "Do you mind?" 


	4. Chapter Four: Betrayal and Cinnamon Buns

Okay, I won't sit down and play video games for several hours. It is now my intention to sit down and listen to Bowling For Soup for several hours--now THAT, I can do while writing. Also, Ghool Girl is the nickname for Chloe Lane on Days of Our Lives. But it's Clear's now!!  
  
Thanks to my dedicated reviewers, two-seventy-seven, Sparky, and... hey, Dharke doesn't have a nickname. How does Hawk sound?  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Billy and Terry walked down the hall on the way to Terry's locker, surprisingly, in deep conversation, despite all the noise and roudiness that surrounded them. Terry was discussing Clear and George, of course.  
  
"He said some mean things," she admitted, "But, I don't know, I'm positive it's not over."  
  
Billy nodded confidently. "He likes her. A lot."  
  
"How can you tell?" she asked, opening her locker.  
  
Billy clicked his tongue and smiled tightly. "Ter, I'm a guy. I can't tell. I just hear what he says."  
  
Terry burst out laughing. "You're hilarious," she said, snuggling closer to him. Then, suddenly, she felt her head lurch forward, then, she was stumbling down to the floor... and Billy landed with her.  
  
Kids started laughing and pointing, but the most obvious one there was Carter. He and his friends were standing behind the two, laughing, clearly the ones that had pushed them.  
  
"Carter, you dick!" Billy exclaimed, working himself up. He held out his hand to Terry.  
  
"Hey, Carter," Terry said before getting up, "Remember when you kissed me this summer? Or when you got put on cop watch?"  
  
"Or when Alex Browning gave you a bloody lip?" Billy added.  
  
"Oh," Terry exclaimed, remembering something, "Or the day after Mark's party the guys took a picture of you brushing your teeth in your boxers and you totally spazzed out? That was so cute!"  
  
Carter chuckled worriedly. "W-what are you talking about?" he asked, his friends looking at him suspiciously. "I was never... I mean, we didn't... oh, I, uh... shit."  
  
Terry grinned whickedly, a look that said she wasn't done yet. She reached into the top shelf of her locker and pulled out a box labeled 'Summer.' It was just a little thing full of important stuff from the summer like her journal and her pictures. Clear had decorated the box for her. It had some pretty cool stuff in here.  
  
"Oh," she said, pulling out a Polaroid, "Here's that one of you and Tod at the party!"  
  
"Okay!" he shouted, "Enough, I get it! Christ, you two sure are gettin' off with this, aren't you?" He bit his lip nervously. "Okay," he said to his football friends, "I hung around with them during the summer, but..."  
  
His friends all started laughing at him. "Carter, stop spazzin'!" one of his friends teased, "You're freakin' out like a little girl!"  
  
Carter blushed a fiery red, then, turning his head away from Terry and Billy, he walked away. The jocks followed him, laughing at him and teasing lightheartetly. Terry got the idea they were more interested in the way Carter freaked than what he did that summer.  
  
"You're evil," he told her, his arm around her waist.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Carter's a dick."  
  
***  
  
"Hey, Tod," Alex said to his friend in the servery line, "Takin' a late lunch?"  
  
Tod laughed. "Third period spare. Our substitute gym teacher didn't show up. You?"  
  
"Languages department is having a meeting," Alex explained to Tod, "So that means... no Englsih class!"  
  
Tod nodded. "Alex, my bro, we're lucky little shits." He moved his tray along. "Two cinnamon buns, please," he told the pinch-faced lady behind the line. He accepted his pastries and turned back to Alex. "You seen George? He wasn't here at lunch."  
  
Alex sighed heavily. "I guess you didn't hear... he and Clear had a fight. She dumped him."  
  
Tod turned to him, his eyebrow raised, and exclaimed, "What?" Never in two months had he shown the slightest bit of interest in his brother's newfound relationship, but now, knowing that his brother had been dumped, it was much more real. "Why?" was all he could ask.  
  
"Don't ask me," Alex replied simply as Tod payed for his snack. "Women. Can't live with 'em, can't shoot 'em."  
  
Tod laughed, then told him, "Man, can you lay off the women jokes? They suck. And not all women are bad." He pointed across the room. "For example, Christa and Blake."  
  
Christa Marsh and Blake Dreyer were the two hottest girls in tenth grade. They were also superficial, dumb as doorknobs, and totally out of everyone's league. But all that mattered to Alex and Tod was that they were hot.  
  
"Man," Tod whispered, "I HAVE to get with one of them. If I don't, I'll strangle myself."  
  
"What do you think we've been trying to do for five years?"  
  
"Whatever we were doing, we weren't trying hard enough." He pointed his chin out in confidence and stood up, striding over to the two hotties.  
  
'This is it, Tod,' he prayed. He began repeating a special mantra he had learned over the years ago to reduce failure. 'Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up...'  
  
"Christa," he said quietly, "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out on Friday to the movies or something..."  
  
"Sure!" Christa squealed. Just not to him.  
  
Alex shook his head in disgust. Tod was standing about twelve feet away from the girls, mumbling worse than ever, so, naturally, the girls didn't see him. Christa and Blake were too busy chirping to each other to notice Tod talking to himself. "What the fuck are you doing?" Alex mouthed to his friend, then waved his hand in a signal that said, 'go over there!'  
  
Gulping, Tod took three more large steps, until he was actually within earshot of the girls. "Christa?" he asked nervously.  
  
"Yes?" Christa asked, turning around. "Oh, Tod!" she exclaimed, "I heard your brother got dumped by Clear Rivers!"  
  
Tod didn't know what to say. "Uh... um..."  
  
"That's gotta be pretty low. Dumped by Ghool Girl! Your brother must be a real loser!"  
  
"Not really," Tod mumbled, embarassed. "I mean, well, he's a... uh..."  
  
Blake giggled. "Looks like it runs in the family."  
  
Tod, humiliated, trudged back to the table.  
  
"What did she say?" Alex asked.  
  
"She said my brother was a loser," Tod mumbled. "Hey!" he suddenly exclaimed, "You ate my cinnamon bun!"  
  
***  
  
Alex slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked through the doors to the hall in front of the music room. He had his music history class in twenty minutes. His spare was a boring hour, so he decided to wait it out in his next class. There wasn't supposed to be a class in there anyways.  
  
He was about to go through the second door when he heard... piano. There must have been someone in there.  
  
There was also singing. It sounded like a CD. But... no, the echo sounded like it was right in the music room. He peeked through the window. Clear was sitting at the piano, singing along softly.  
  
Quietly, he twisted the knob and walked in. Clear didn't see or hear him. She just kept playing and singing. It was an old song Alex had heard a few times back in 1996.  
  
"Now I'm towing my car/There's a hole in the roof/My possessions have caused me suspician/But there's no proof/In the paper today/Tales of war and of waste/But you turn right over to the tv page/hey now, hey now/don't dream it's over/hey now, hey now/when the world comes in/they come, they come/to build a wall between us/we know they won't win."  
  
She began a complicated series of notes on the piano... and she wasn't quite getting it. Alex could not only tell that from the sour sound but from the sour expression on Clear's face.  
  
"Need help?" he asked dumbly. If she needed help, it wasn't from him. He couldn't read or play a note, how could he help Clear Rivers on this song he'd heard twice in his lifetime? Maybe it was an insecurity thing, like he didn't feel comfortable being in there without Clear knowing.  
  
She turned around, her ponytail knocking the seet music down. "What the fuck are you doing here?" she demanded defensively. She gazed at her fallen music. "Look what you made me do!"  
  
"Uh... it's on the floor. It wasn't dropped in a vat of acid."  
  
"Shut it, Browning," she muttered, picking up the music. She started to walk away.  
  
"No, don't leave," he told her, trying to appologize.  
  
"Fuck you," she mumbled.  
  
Alex was totally embarassed. Clear wasn't stupid. She obviously knew that he had made fun of her this morning. He guessed that kind of pushed him back a few notches on the Friend-Meter. Still, he didn't want to lose Clear as a friend. "Clear, I'm sorry. I just like hearing you play."  
  
She turned around, staring at him with eyes like steel. "Well you won't get to hear me play."  
  
Alex scoffed. "Stop freaking out, Clear," he told her, "You're, like, making a big deal over nothing."  
  
"It's not nothing!" she cried, getting progressively louder, "For the first time in my life, there's no right or wrong answer, it's all jumbled together, and... I've never had so many things happening to me at once. So don't go assuming that it's nothing because it's far from that."  
  
"Sorry, Clear," Alex said after a few seconds of silence. "Really, sorry."  
  
She didn't smile, but she looked up with a less dark look in her eyes. "It's alright." 


	5. Chapter Five: Swinging

A/N: As always, Me Likey Reviews. But here for you is a table of Who-Has-What-Classes when, so a) I don't get confused while writing b) You can correct me if I make a mistake c) You don't get confused.  
  
First Period: Alex, Clear, George, Tod - Algebra; Terry, Billy - History  
  
Second Period: Alex, Billy - Science; Clear, Terry - Computers; George, Tod - English  
  
Third Period: Alex - English; Clear - Instrumental Music; George - History; Tod - Gym; Terry - Spanish; Billy - Algebra  
  
Fourth Period: Alex - Music History; Clear, George, Tod - French; Terry, Billy - Shop  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Fourth period was French for Clear. That meant that she had to face Tod and George. She walked into the room trying not to be noticed. That wasn't hard, since there were only two people in there at the moment, Kimberly Corman and Shania Reeves, two girls she hardly knew.  
  
Kimberly and Shania were conversing about something obviously very funny, but Clear didn't bother getting into it. She slumped into a seat at the back of the room, two seats away from Kimberly. She certainly wasn't execting Kimberly to lean over and begin speaking to her.  
  
"Hey, Clear!" she said eagerly.  
  
"Oh, hi, Kimberly," Clear said softly.  
  
Kimberly reached into her purse and pulled out two school photos. "I have a question for you. We've been arguing for two hours. Who do you think is hotter? Dano, or Frankie?"  
  
Dano and Frankie weren't familiar names or faces to Clear. Judging by their pictures, they must have been older by a year or two. Reluctantly, she pointed to the one on the left, the one with the pudgy face. "Him," she said confidently.  
  
Kim beamed and laughed. "All right!" she exclaimed. She turned to Shania, a tall, skinny blonde that had more than a glint of mischief in her face. "See, I told you more people think Dano's hotter."  
  
"No way!" Shania cried, snatching the pictures, "Look at Frankie's eyes. They're so--"  
  
"Glazed over," Kimberly put in half-sourly, half joking.  
  
Clear had to laugh.  
  
"See? Clear hears me!"  
  
Clear laughed harder.  
  
"So," Kim asked slowly to Shania, "What's the latest from student council?"  
  
Shania's blue eyes twinkled in excitement. Clear could tell she had been dying to say something. "We've planned out everything for Frosh Week." She referred to the events that began next Monday, when freshmen were put to the test with events such as Siamese Donuts, Don't Look Up, Mount Aberham Record Book, Mystery Box and many more disgusting games. Shania had been the most active ninth grader in Frosh Week last year.  
  
"What've they got this year?" Kim asked, snatching Shania's notebook. She read over it. "Saltwater chugging contest... Weelbarrow race down the stairs... eating cat food? Who thought of these things?"  
  
Shania grinned with pride. "Your's truly!"  
  
"I've never had a Frosh Week," Clear spoke up suddenly. Shania looked at her curiously. "I mean, well, I moved here last Christmas, and my old school didn't have one. What's it like?"  
  
Kimberly burst out laughing, ready to tell a story. By now, the class was filling up, but no one payed attention to them. "You wanna hear some of Shania's tales?"  
  
Clear nodded.  
  
"Okay... in 'Don't Look Up,' someone drops a bucketfull of... well, a bucketfull of something on your head from the main stairwell. Shania got sour cream. I got Prego spaghetti sauce. Then in 'Siamese Donuts' we were tied together and had to eat a donut on a string."  
  
Clear burst out laughing. A homely boy in front of them turned around and glared at them. This time, they all laughed.  
  
"Then she went for the Record Book. She won for Most Freakishly Long Toes and the Biggest Belch."  
  
"First time a girl ever won!" Shania put in proudly.  
  
"And on Friday was the event that got everyone to vote her into student council.. she ate..." Kimberly's face got green. "A live minnow."  
  
Clear grimmaced. "Ew. This sounds like the craziest, most classless event in the world."  
  
Kimberly grinned. "That's why it's so much fun!"  
  
***  
  
Clear couldn't believe how easy it was to have fun even after leaving her boyfriend. For awhile chatting with Kimberly and Shania helped.  
  
She was sorting through the things in her locker when she came across a picture of her and her dad at the park when she was little. Suddenly, a memory from her childhood came to her. The memory was not all that important, but vivid in her memory. It was not a childhood tragedy or a landmark in her life, but it stuck out like a sore thumb.  
  
---  
  
"Higher, Daddy!" she cried, gripping the chains of the swing tightly.  
  
Her father kept pushing her. "It won't go any higher, Clear!" he called to his daughter, "You're the the tallest kid on the playground!"  
  
"But I wanna go to the moon!" Clear insisted. The five-year-old pried a single hand away and pointed out at the forming moon in the late evening sky. It seemed so close, so within reach, like a shiny marble. She could reach the moon. She could take it down and bring it home with her.  
  
Bravely, she took her other hand away and reached further. The next thing she remembered was soaring not to gracefully, legs and arms flailing, to the ground. She landed on her knees with a thud.  
  
A sharp pain was in her shin. Her father bent down to tend to his fallen daughter. A big kid from the swing set also knelt down beside and asked if she was okay.  
  
"I'm fine," she said shakily. She felt a stickiness in the knee of her jeans. Was she bleeding? She didn't want her daddy to know. "I just fell. I didn't die."  
  
Her dad chuckled slightly at his daughter's joke. He pulled her up. "Come on, pumpkin," he said, "Let's go home and get you cleaned up."  
  
"But I don't need to be cleaned up," Clear insisted. "I wanna stay and play."  
  
"Sorry, Cleary," her dad said sadly. He took her hand. "We have to go."  
  
Clear was embarassed how. "I don't need to hold your hand!" she shouted.  
  
"Clear, please, I know you feel okay, but it's getting late." he held out his hand expectantly, a smile on his face.  
  
Clear looked at the outstretched hand, and reluctantly took it.  
  
But she wasn't happy.  
  
---  
  
All the bad stuff came back to her. She closed her eyes for a second, and everything, all the fun she had talking with Kim and Shania was gone and the pain of her dad, Colin, George, it was all back. Tears sprung out of her eyes.  
  
Quickly, she grabbed her bag and shut the door. She spun around and made her way to the back door of the school. No one hardly left out of there. Sure, she would have to go out of her way to get to the path to her house, but it was the less populated rout.  
  
She finally reached the doors. She opened them and the sunlight hit her like a slap. She groaned angrily and kept walking.  
  
A hand fell on her shoulder.  
  
She screamed and turned around to see the shocked face of Alex Browning.  
  
"Holy shit, Clear," he said, trying to catch his breath, "You don't have to scream!"  
  
Her clenched fists loosened inside the sleeves of her brown suede jacket. "Alex. I thought you were..."  
  
"George? Tod?" She didn't have to say anything to agree. "Believe me, it could have been worse. What the hell are you doing walking this way? Do you know how many psychos hang around this place? Do you wanna go and get yourself attacked?"  
  
"It's four in the afternoon," she groaned, "I'm just going home."  
  
He smirked and held out something shiny. "Can't walk through the doors without your keys." He gave her the ring full of keys and chains. "You dropped it on the way out."  
  
She was about to snarl, but smiled instead. She accepted the keys and slipped them into her pocket. "Going this way?" she asked.  
  
"Sure," he shrugged. "Someone's got to keep you safe."  
  
She looked at him strangely. "Huh?"  
  
It must have been a joke.  
  
***  
  
Terry burst through her back door. Billy followed behind, nearly knocking her down the basement steps. "Watch it!" she laughed. She kicked her shoes down the steps into the basement. She was about to lead Billy downstairs into her room when she smelled the air.  
  
"Uh-oh," she said suddenly. She peeked her head through the kitchen door to see a boiling pot on the stove. "Spaghetti."  
  
Billy raised an eyebrow. "You love spaghetti."  
  
"Mom only makes my favourite meals with alterior motives," she explained. Terry didn't exactly get along with her parents very well. And why not? Her mom's high expectations and her dad's success always made Terry seem like the fat pig daughter. Her mom never let her forget it. "Overweight" was what she called it when she was being politically correct or talking to a friend. "How's Terry doing?" "She hasn't lost any weight yet." Her size wasn't the only thing about her!  
  
Her mom, not a hair out of place, walked into the kitchen. "Hello Terry," she greeted with a smile, "Hi, Billy."  
  
As far as the Chaneys knew, Billy was just a friend. Terry wasn't allowed to have a boyfriend until she was sixteen.  
  
Billy felt that he could slice the tension in the room with a knife. He motioned the pot of sauce. "The spaghetti smells great, Mrs. C."  
  
Mrs. Chaney smiled a little at the abreviation. "Thank you Billy. You're welcome to stay for supper if you would like?"  
  
Billy looked back at Terry. Her eyes said 'no.' "Er, I don't want to impose on you. You shouldn't have to give any to me--it's your food."  
  
"We have plenty extra," Terry's mom insisted, "We're having the Hannamns over for supper."  
  
Terry's eyes widened and she dropped her keys. "Erica, too?" she asked.  
  
"Oh course," her mom said cheerfully as she walked over to the stove. She stuck a wooden spoon in the sauce and began stirring. "You two haven't gotten together in so long. It will be good for you."  
  
Terry groaned internally. Her mom didn't know about their fight!  
  
She looked at Billy and forced a smile. "Billy," she said tightly, "I think you should stay. I insist."  
  
~~  
  
*Extra note #1 - All Shania's frosh week adventures are actually my own. Everything down to the minnow. But I didn't make student council. DAMN YOU, ANTHONY!  
  
*Extra note #2 - This one freaked me out. I was in geography and our teacher wrote our assignment on the board--it was number 1 a-d. Keegan, my friend and another FD freak, was like "Hey, one a-d--180!" and I was like, "Haha." Then two minutes later a book fell on my head. 


	6. Chapter Six: A Way Out

Okay, frosh weeks are just fun events the first (full) week of school where the grade nines (actually, everyone) participate in a bunch of crazy activities at lunchtime. They can get pretty nasty. (One year there was a game called 'Eat it or Wear it.' I don't have to explain it to you.) But I didn't get a concussion. The disgusting stuff came out of my hair well in the girl's room sink. (But my shoelaces still have chocolate sauce stained onto them!) And, you probably figured it out--Anthony is the guy that won for SC. Okay, he's a good guy, but doesn't "DAMN YOU ANTHONY!" just roll right off your tongue? So join with me, and shout--"DAMN YOU ANTHONY!"  
  
This chapter is kinda pushing the rating at the end. But it's good drama.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
Terry looked at Billy, stabbed her fork into her meatball, looked at her parents, sliced it in half, looked at Erica and then ate the piece. She repeated the ritual about five more times, each time getting more tense. She reached for a role.  
  
"That's your second one, Terry," her mom scolded softly.  
  
"It's bread," she retorted, "Not cake." Her mom said nothing to her. Instead, she turned her attention to Erica.  
  
"How's senior year, dear?"  
  
Erica smiled falsley. "It's been great. I've really had time to get into my schoolwork." She snuck a small evil stare at Terry that no one but Billy noticed. "I'm thinking of getting into the Reach Team."  
  
"That's wonderful!" Mr. Chaney said with way too much enthusiasm. "Terry, you should join the reach team as well!"  
  
Terry shook her head. "You know, I've always wanted to do cheerleading," she told her dad as if she hadn't gone on and on about it since she was six. "And the track team is starting soon."  
  
"Athletics are good," her mom agreed, "But academics shouldn't be a chore. You should get more into it."  
  
Terry opened her mouth to protest when Billy stopped her. It was time to work his charm that always made adults think he was a 'sophisticated young man.' While he was a little dim, he sure had strong personal politics. "I think it's a good idea to explore a more athletic side of yourself," he debated, "After all, academics are important, but you have to know your passion. It doesn't always have to be athletics, either. Like, my friend, Clear, she tells me that she struggles in history, but she sure makes up for it in music. Everyone has a passion." He took in a deep breath.  
  
Mrs. Hannamn was not fooled by Billy's performance. She looked at the boy, his baggy red t-shirt, his messy hair, he didn't exactly look like the kind of boy to go crazy for extracurricular. "And what is your passion, Billy?"  
  
Billy felt his words get caught in his throat. What WAS his passion? He was too much of a klutz to be an athlete, not talented enough for art or music, and had too much dignity left in him for chess club. "Right now," he said slowly, "My passion is keeping my grades up, stayin' outa trouble, and having good friends." He noticed a few skeptical expressions. "I mean, I probably will join a team later in the year." 'Unlikely,' he thought. "But for now, I just want to find myself. That's something Terry's already done."  
  
Erica groaned and didn't bother to hide her dramatic eye roll.  
  
"Something the matter, Erica?" Terry challenged in a clipped tone. No one would insult her boyfriend after he defended her like that.  
  
"I just find it hilarious that your boyfriend is the one doing all the talking for you--maybe you should learn to think for yourself. Not lie to yourself and everyone around you."  
  
"Erica!" her father shouted, "What was that for!"  
  
"That's for ditching me this summer for popularity. And for Billy."  
  
Mrs. Chaney looked ready to burst out at her daughter. "Terry, is Erica telling the truth when she says Billy is your boyfriend?"  
  
Terry's face was hot, here eyes sinking down into the table, her mouth soft and numb. "Er... yes." She looked up. "Yes, mom. Billy is my boyfriend. And he's good for me."  
  
Mrs. Chaney stared daggers at her. "I told you no boyfriends until you were sixteen. By breaking that rule that is disrespecting me. How can you date any boy without being mature enough?"  
  
"Mom, stop it!" Terry exclaimed, "I can do what I want! I'm a woman! I can make my own descisions!" She flicked her finger at Erica. "Some people can't deal with it. But I'm still your daughter and you should trust me that I'm mature enough for this!"  
  
Mrs. Chaney gaped at her daughter and said nothing.  
  
Terry stood up and grabbed Billy's hand. "Come on, Billy," she muttered, "Let's not waist our time."  
  
Billy nodded. The two rose and walked out of the house.  
  
***  
  
A blue hackey sack soared across the room. It landed on top of George's hand. He kept reading his book and barely took the effort to toss it back. It landed three feet from his brother.  
  
"Friday night at eight," Tod said dryly. "I ain't got no date." He smiled at himself. "Thing's ain't going great," he continued with a smirk. "I--"  
  
"Would you shut up?" George exclaimed. "If Eminem teaches us anything, it's that unless you're holding a gun at your ex-wife's lover's head or bashing on Moby, white guys shouldn't rap."  
  
Tod sat on the bed, embarassed. "You're being a real womanly bitch," he muttered to his brother. He picked up the hackey sack and started lamely bouncing it around. "I'm guessing you're upset about Clear?"  
  
"Fuck yeah!" George exclaimed, "I mean, you know how when you get dumped the last thing you're gonna believe is, 'it's not you, it's me?' Well that's basically what Clear gave me."  
  
"'Least you've had a girlfriend. Today, Christa--"  
  
"Tod, I know you're hung up of Princess D Cup, but right now I wanna sit here and wallow in pathetic self-pity in hopes that someday, this sucky situation will make sense to me. So will you back off?"  
  
His twin looked at him. George had always been overly serious about everything, but this was too much. "Okay, George, enough. You're being a real woman here. I mean, go celebrate! You're stag! Now you don't have to feel ashamed when you break out the porno!"  
  
"Porno?" George asked with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk. "I'm fifteen, I'm a dumbass, and I have no money. What makes you think I have porno?"  
  
Tod shrugged. "At least it got you talkin'."  
  
George laughed. "So what the hell are we going to do tonight then?"  
  
"Uh..." he looked at the phone. "Wanna call up Billy and Alex and head to Finn's to go shoot some pool?"  
  
George smiled. "Guess that's the best we can do."  
  
"That's what I'm talkin' about!"  
  
***  
  
Clear opened the door a crack and peered out into the hall. Sure enough, there was nothing there. Nothing that you could see. Hearing no screams or arguments, no crashing, just the soft sobbing of her mother in the other room. Her mom was in another daily depression. Clear was unnaware the location of her stepdad--he could have out drinking, or home drinking. Take your pick.  
  
Clear closed the door again. She felt like her knees lock, and she couldn't stand up. She turned and saw the clock. Eight thirty. Only eight thirty. How much longer until she felt safe to walk through the hallway? The fight she had heard--and what she had seen after the fight--was enough to scare her from leaving her room for the rest of her life. She would be up, worrying, all night. Again. Only this time, she lay cold and shaking, feeling too emotionally weak to even climb her bed. And it didn't even happen to her!  
  
She looked from one side of her room to the other, at the cold surrondings. Everything had a red hue to it. The sun was just going down. She wondered what Terry, or Alex, or Tod and George were doing now. They were probably having a good time.  
  
She heard the wretched sound--Colin took one step up the stairs.  
  
"No," she whispered, "Don't come up."  
  
She felt helpless. She knew Colin had seen her see him and her mother. That was an hour ago. Enough time for him to get drunker, more violent.  
  
Another two steps. "Stop," she whispered to herself.  
  
Finally, she could tell he was at the top of the stairs. He was on the second floor. Closer to her. She was closer to spilling over the edge.  
  
She stood up slowly. Slowly, numbly, she reached over her desk to her window and pulled it open. She stepped onto her chair and was leaning out the window... and he came in.  
  
She would have said 'shit.' But 'shit' didn't describe it. In fact, if there weren't such a lump in her throat she would have screamed. But she couldn't scream. Not at all.  
  
She couldn't even budge as Colin made a lunge at her and swiped her to the ground. Panting heavily, she tried to figure out how she could get away. But when her door slammed, she knew.  
  
There was no getting out.  
  
~~~  
  
Heyy, Sparky, gladya like my FD story--and you shared your own! No one here has the FD cars, because it's all pickups and minivans (my dream car is a Hummer H4. This has little or nothing to do with anything.) Anyways, today, I had the FREAKIEST Fd-experience--  
  
I was at the dentist getting a cavity filled. The dentist looked like the dentist from FD2, plus, he has a son I know named Tim. So, I'm getting a giant needle in my gums, I look out the window, and I am conveniently on the third story looking out onto the scary street (no pigeons or construction thank god!) and I look up and see... a mobile. It had no spiny fish, but little airplanes... they looked so... deadly. Worst of all, in front of me was a painting of a happy clown waving. I'm like "Oh dear God, I'm getting a wave good-bye from a happy clown, and I'm gonna die while listening to that stupid Marc Anthony song!" 


	7. Chapter Seven: Complicated

Chapter Seven  
  
Clear didn't know when Colin had disappeared. He just did. Her insides hurt. She rolled over and grabbed ahold of the comforter on her bed to pull herself up.  
  
She choked down a sob.  
  
She didn't bother worrying about what would happen after. After all, she knew, Colin couldn't get someone pregnant anymore. She had found that out from her mom. She wasn't even worried about STDs at the moment. For now it was just what had happened ten minutes ago.  
  
Clear would never be the same. Ever. She always knew the bastard was capable of mayhem, but she had never imagined that he would hurt someone so bad, physically and emotionally. She had always said proudly, 'I'm saving myself for marriage.' Here she was, fifteen, and she was... raped. By her stepfather. She remembered reading about that sort of thing in the book Go Ask Alice, and she remembered thinking, how could anyone do that? How could anyone have that happen to them and survive? After all, the people in the book were scarred for life.  
  
She finally stood up.  
  
She stumbled. She pulled her tank top down, her stomach aching like never before. Her bare feet were freezing against the wooden floor. She had to leave.  
  
It took all her strength to climb out the window. She could barely hang onto it, or the ladice along her house. She dropped to the ground. She couldn't stay in one spot. She began to run shakilly. The twigs on the ground scratched her feet.  
  
She made it to the sidewalk. Hopefully, she would find some way to get to someone. The closest friend was Alex. She thought, he would surely understand.  
  
She would not cry. She would not cry.  
  
She walked the streets in the cold weather. The sky was now a black-blue. The stars were out. She remembered the time at the lake when her and Terry had gotten smashed, and she had totally embarassed herself in front of George. She thought her life was over then! Confessions of a teenage drama queen--she was no different than the rest. Making a big deal out of nothing was not exactly the way to teach herself to survive in the real world. She used to think she was a survivor. With her dad dying, she thought she was strong.  
  
She wasn't.  
  
She looked across the road. Someone was there. No! She couldn't let anyone see her. She tried to hide behind the trees, but she was just too weak.  
  
The figures were familiar. Three boys... they had to be Alex, Tod, and George!  
  
They were laughing. Happy. Excited.  
  
She ran to them.  
  
Tod saw her first. "Clear?" he shouted. She got closer. It was Clear, alright. He, his friend, and brother gaped at the girl--her clothes torn, her hair a mess, her face tear-streaked and scared. Something serious had happened to Clear.  
  
Tod raised his hands in question. In response, Clear fell into them and began sobbing. The two other boys watched Clear, hoping and anticipating that she would tell her story soon.  
  
Clear pulled away from Tod.  
  
"Clear?" George asked, "What happened to you?"  
  
She tried not to cry again. "I was... I can't tell you hear. Can we get to Alex's?"  
  
The boys nodded, soft, understanding expressions on their face. They fell into step. Clear walked slower and stumbled. Alex took her hand, then looked at her in shock--she was shaking so badly that she shook his hand as well!  
  
He looked into her eyes, horrified. Her face said it all--Clear Rivers' life had been forever changed.  
  
***  
  
It took awhile, but they got to Alex's house. They went up to his room quietly. Clear collapsed onto the bed with a heave of her shoulders. Alex looked at her expectantly. "Are you ready to tell us?" he asked.  
  
Clear bit her lip. Her face had pure fear on it. "I... have to go to the bathroom," she finished quietly.  
  
Without so much as a nod from the guys, she darted down the hall to the bathroom, shut the door, and threw up.  
  
She flushed the toilet. She couldn't bare to look into the mirror, so she shut her eyes and opened the door. Once out, she bumped into Mrs. Browning.  
  
"Sorry," she said quickly.  
  
Mrs. Browning was confused. "Clear? I didn't even see you come in!" She looked the girl over. All at once, the woman's face became shocked and horrified. "Clear, what happened to you?"  
  
Clear bit her lip. She couldn't tell the boys. One would think that she wouldn't be able to tell Alex's mother. But she was a woman, a grown one who understood things. Plus, she knew Mrs. Browning well enough by now to talk with her about these things. Still... could she? She looked at Alex's closed door. The image of the guys with their ears pressed to the door struck her. "Can we go to the kitchen? It's kind of a sit-down thing."  
  
Mrs. Browning nodded and they walked downstairs. Once down there, Clear pulled up a seat on a barstool and Barbara leaned over the counter.  
  
"Mrs. Browning," Clear began nervously, "Alex doesn't know what goes on at my house, does he?"  
  
Barbara shrugged. "I've overheard him saying that you don't get along with your stepfather."  
  
"It's worse than that," Clear barely whispered. "He beats me and my mother."  
  
Alex's mother's face became twice as shocked as before. Her eyes pounded with her heart. "Honey," she breathed, "You haven't gone to the police?"  
  
"I can't," Clear confessed. "He'll hurt me or my mom more."  
  
Barbara put her hand on Clear's. "That's not possible, Clear."  
  
Clear gulped. "It's very possible," she said, her lip trembling more and more with every word. "Because tonight, he... he..." she couldn't say it. But her face said it. She looked at the mother's face and realized, she knew what she meant. The expression on her face caused Clear to give away. She broke into sobs once more.  
  
Mrs. Browning rounded the kitchen island and wrapped her arms around the adolescent, holding her head the way Clear remembered her mom would when she was scared. Suddenly, Clear felt like a small child. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling that too many tears had been cried that night. They were gone now. She physically couldn't cry anymore.  
  
"Clear," Barbara told her carefully, "You're going to need help. Proffessional help. And a pregnancy test--"  
  
"No," Clear put in, "Colin can't get women pregnant. Thank God."  
  
"But there are certain health issues--"  
  
"Mrs. Browning," Clear cut, "I know you want to help, and I thank you so, so much, but I don't feel like I can stand up anymore, let alone go to a hospital. Can I just lie down?"  
  
Alex's mom was about to object, but took a beat to consider. She finally nodded.  
  
Two minutes later, Clear was wrapped in a quilt on a couch in the Browning's living room. Her eyes were shut, but that didn't mean she was asleep.  
  
***  
  
Terry ran her fingers through rows of compact disks. How many people actually bought CDs anymore? Then again, how many people went to the mall alone at ten AM on a Saturday morning? She imagined Billy was still in bed, his head burried deep under his pillow. After the few rounds of pool with the guys last night, she had finally gone home, not even saying hello to her mom and dad.  
  
Like they noticed anyway.  
  
"Hmmm," she mumbled to herself, picking up a Michelle Branch CD, "I don't have this one yet."  
  
A teenybopper girl on the other side of the CD rack looked at her with a scowl. Terry smiled. Did twelve-year-olds always seem that young to her? She ignored it and carried the CD to the listening booth. She popped it in and put the headphones on.  
  
Hard-edged pop and guitar flooded her ears. A smile spread on her face. She turned out the store window to see the nearly-empty mall. The only population was rows of unattended shopping carts, a tall Wal-Mart employee with messy hair and glasses bringing out a scarecrow display, and a broad-shoulderd teenage boy who caught her eye--  
  
Carter Horton.  
  
She pulled her eyes away, hoping the jock hadn't seen her.  
  
He had.  
  
He glided through the doors of CD World and approached the listening station.  
  
"Hi, Terry," he said nervously.  
  
She didn't look over. She pretended not to hear him.  
  
"I know you can hear me," he said confidently, "Your volume is on two out of ten."  
  
Her response was turning the volume up until it hurt her ears and Carter could hear it.  
  
"Hotel Paper," he observed, "Cool stuff."  
  
Frustrated, she ejected the CD and put it back in it's case. She began her way to the counter.  
  
"Terry," Carter told her as he walked after her, "I know you think I'm a dick--"  
  
"You ARE a dick."  
  
"I'm really sorry about ditching you and the guys, it's just that I have--"  
  
"What you have is an ego that needs deflating," she muttered, still walking. She stopped at the counter. No one was there. She hit the service bell. When no one came, she groaned and hit it again.  
  
"Terry, I can't be your friend!" he insisted.  
  
Terry turned her head around, trying to hide how much that hurt, even comming from a jerk ass like Carter. "I guess we've all figured that out. Maybe in a week you'll be too good to shop for CDs in the same store as me."  
  
"I didn't mean it that way," he told her, "I mean... I think that if I can't have you as a girlfriend, I don't wanna have you at all."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
Terry's eyes bugged out of her head. Carter had the most sincere expression on his face, but she was having a hard time believing it.  
  
"I mean, I'm... jealous. Of Hitchcock. He's, ya know, got you, and I... don't. It makes me sound like an idiot, but I like you, Terry. When I kissed you this summer, you know I meant it. If you gave me another chance, I promise I wouldn't blow it. We could be like--"  
  
"Carter," Terry told him, her hand held up, "You blew it last time by kissing me, alright?" She glared at him strongly.  
  
"Maybe you're right," he said stubbornly, "But I miss you." He leaned over.  
  
He kissed her.  
  
Terry couldn't imagine it--he was kissing her... again! And, for the second time, he had no idea what he was doing. He couldn't have picked a worse thing to do.  
  
She pushed him off.  
  
"Carter, you dickhead!" she yelled. The twelve-year-old who was browsing the CDs was looking at them with interest and looked like she was about to laugh her ass off. "You really have no clue, do you?"  
  
"I thought you--"  
  
"Jesus Christ!" she went on, "How come everyone can't face that I am with Billy? I'm not just a face. I can make my own descisions!"  
  
Carter couldn't say anything. He'd been proven wrong again. "I'm sorry, Terry," he muttered.  
  
She shook her head. Giving up any hopes of getting service, she put the CD down on the counter and walked to the doorway. "No, you're not. Do me a favour--just drop fuckin' dead, alright?"  
  
~~~  
  
So that was chapter seven... yep... once again, a thank you for the reviews, two-seven-seven had a great idea!! (about the life insurance, AND the Kill Bill reference) Who knows, Colin MAY meet his untimely end. Sparky, it's good to have someone who can identify with Clear (though if your SD is half as bad as Colin, I would advise you to go after him with a board with a nail in it!) And, of course, Hawk, thank you for watching my story so closely! (I guess the reason why I nned you Hawk is cause something about you makes me think that you would hate Tony Hawk. Do you? Well, I do!)  
  
Again, another FD reference with Terry's last line, just put it in for the purpose of putting it in. Plus, this chapter features a "cameo" by my brother. He is the "tall Wal-Mart employee with messy hair and glasses bringing out a scarecrow display." He works at Wal-Mart and I take every opportunity to make fun of that! 


	8. Chapter Eight: Vulnerable

Thanks to everyone who reviewed my fic, I love you all! Curses to ff.net which removed my Austin Powers fic because they saw it as a 'list fic.' (I was not allowed to upload for awhile :-{ Thus explaining the lateness of this chapter.)Anyway, just to let you know, MuchMusic is the Canadian equivilant of MTV. I just like MM better than EmptyV--er, MTV. And no one can change that.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Alex scratched his head and then reached for his pop tart, fresh from the toaster, tossed it on the plate and carried it to the living room.  
  
Squinting tiredly, he turned on the TV and changed the channel to MuchMusic and sat down on the couch.  
  
His butt was only a foot away from the cushion when it hit something. He jumped. He had hit a human form! His pop tart flew across the room and his plate fell on the floor. He turned around to see Clear, curled up in his grandma's old quilt, sleeping on his couch.  
  
But she had obviously been woken up by Alex.  
  
"You're still here?" he asked her, regretting it immediately. He sounded insensetive, majorly. He had actually gone to sleep forgetting that Clear Rivers was in major trouble.  
  
"Yeah," she mumbled, sitting up. She rubbed her eyes, then looked at Alex suspiciously. "Where's your mom?" she asked him suddenly, wondering if she had told Alex anything.  
  
Alex shrugged. "I think she went grocery shopping or something."  
  
Clear moved her feet closer to her torso, allowing Alex to sit down next to her. She kept the quilt around her shoulders, as she was shiverring to death in her tank top. "Did she tell you anything?" she asked Alex.  
  
Alex shook his head.  
  
"Well," Clear began, "I know that you want to know."  
  
Alex wasn't sure if he was suppose to say anything or not.  
  
"And, last night, I was thinking, if I could tell your mom, I can tell you."  
  
Alex leaned closer, looking the girl in the eye. As she poured out the story, her lip trembled, her legs shook, and her skin lost all colour. Alex, on the other hand, became red with anger, his eyebrows lowered maddingly and his fists clenched.  
  
"You never told anyone?"  
  
Clear shook her lowered head. "I didn't think it was that bad."  
  
He put his hand on her wrist. Impulsively, she snatched it back. "Alex," she began, "It took a lot for me to say that to you. Three months ago we never ever spoke to each other and now I'm telling you about the most signifigant event in my life--" she looked at him in the eye for a split second. "Until now," she finished. "And I've never been able to do that to something other than a piece of paper. So right now... anything else for us would be kind of overwhelming."  
  
Alex opened his mouth... the closed it. He nodded, just a little, with a sincere look in his eyes that said he understood.  
  
Clear returned the eyes. "Thanks."  
  
***  
  
Clear sat on the leather couch in the waiting room of the free clinic next to Mrs. Browning, her feet on the neutual beige carpet, the ticking of the clock driving her mad. She wasn't sure what time it was. Maybe two? She couldn't look at the clock, as it was behind her head and her neck was so tense she could barely move it.  
  
Mrs. Browning sensed Clear's nervousness and gave her hand a supportive squeeze. Clear gave a small (fake) smile and ran her fingers through her fringe, rubbed her hands together, and tried to make the time pass faster.  
  
But time hadn't been passing quickly. It never did for Clear Rivers.  
  
She had been to a gynecologist once before, but not for something so serious. The test had not been the scary part, it had been what she had to tell the doctor before. She had to tell the doctor she had been raped. The police were going to have to be involved now.  
  
The doctor opened the door and glanced at his sheet.  
  
'Mind going a little faster?' Clear thought to herself while he scanned the list.  
  
"Uh... Claire," he said finally, "We have your results."  
  
Clear bit her lip, not bothering to correct the doctor, and stood up. Mrs. Browning followed her.  
  
The cold metal door closed, like a prison cell door. Clear couldn't sit. She had to stand. It made things feel like things were going faster.  
  
"Well, Claire," the doctor began right away.  
  
"Clear," Mrs. Browning corrected, "Her name is Clear."  
  
"Right," the doctor said, embarassed, "I'm not too concerned about STDs. We didn't track any. And you say that you can't get pregnant at this time?"  
  
Clear nodded nervously.  
  
"Well," the doctor said, clamming his hands, "You're not pregnant, but..." he exhaled. "This is never easy to say. Something must have gotten mixed up in your system through this ordeal, Clear. You will never be able to have children, Clear."  
  
***  
  
Journal: Terry Chaney  
  
Hey, remember last night, when I went and gave Mom the 'I'm mature' speech? We-ell...  
  
I have made a list of things I'm mature enough for. And there are four things on that list: a boyfriend, friends, a job, and school activities. Then I made a list of things I'm NOT mature enough for. I started with the basics, like sex, or living on my own, and then I got to things I never realized, like I'm not mature enough to handle to boys. At least, the way things are now.  
  
I know I would think, Carter is a jerk and always will be.  
  
But he... cares about me.  
  
And I know that Billy cares for me, too.  
  
I've always been about moving on, not dwelling on the little things. But Carter seemed... okay, it sounds weird, but when Carter talked to me this morning, he seemed very vulnerable, like the way Billy was this summer on the roof when... well you know. Anyway, if I have made Carter that way on the inside, then he must like me for me. Not my body. For me.  
  
And, hey, his kissing technique improved a little.  
  
Stop it, Terry.  
  
Billy's a good kisser, a good boyfriend, and a good person.  
  
I don't feel like a good person right now. Because I can't forget Carter.  
  
And I should be able to.  
  
---  
  
Billy rolled his eyes as he waited impatiently in the McDonalds line. Why did he even come here? Was it so important that he used his cupon for a free McChicken at the moment? Probably not. He probably could have remained in a sleepy state, in his cozy room, playing video games or IM-ing Terry. But no, the sun had shone through his binds way too brightly today. There was no way he would get back to sleep. With no good food in the house, and no one around, he had taken the opportunity to ride his bike down to McDonalds.  
  
The line dragged along for another five minutes until he reached the pimply college student.  
  
"May I take your order?" he asked nervously. Sweat poured off of him like in a showerhead. His nametag read 'Thomas.' Billy raised his eyebrows, fighting laughter. He knew that he, himself, was a loser, but this went pretty far down the hillarity road.  
  
Billy handed him the cupon. The employee coughed a little. He grimmaced as he sent the order to the back.  
  
Billy shuddered with disgust as he accepted his sandwhich. He walked to his small table and began unwrapping it.  
  
"Mind if I sit here?" asked someone.  
  
The voice. Familiar, yet inplacable. It wasn't Tod or George or Alex. Maybe it was... Carter? No. Coudln't be.  
  
"Uh... Hitchcock? You gonna answer or what?"  
  
Billy looked up.  
  
It WAS Carter.  
  
"Sure," Billy muttered, in shock.  
  
Carter plopped his tray down and ate a fry.  
  
"What's been... uh, going on?"  
  
Carter was uncomfortable. "You mean why I haven't hung out with you guys lately? Just... well, a bunch of little things, you know."  
  
Billy rolled his eyes, not wanting to accept the answer. "So what's the occasion? Run out of friends? No one's watching?"  
  
"No," Carter said defensively right away, "I need to ask you a question."  
  
Billy's answer was taking a long drink of his pop and not looking Carter in the eye.  
  
Carter asked anyway. "You and Terry... are you really serious?"  
  
This time, Billy actually answered. "What kind of question is that? You mean do I love her? How far have we been? Be a little specific!"  
  
"I mean how long do you see yourself together?"  
  
Billy cocked an eyebrow. "You know what? I think you should be a little more subtle. I know you like Terry, okay? So why don't you give it up! She's my girlfriend! What makes this any different? Until one of us make it officially over, neither of us are going anywhere!"  
  
Carter glared at him, then raised his eyebrows--an idea. "So, if you're so close, why did she kiss me?"  
  
***  
  
Clear lowered her eyebrows and struck something out on the paper. She tucked her feet further under the blanket.  
  
Alex approached from behind the couch. "Writing a song?" he asked, trying to be cheerful. He didn't know Clear's news, of course. He wouldn't understand.  
  
"No," she muttered, "Just writing a list of things I... well, things I want to do for the future. Hopefully the near future."  
  
Alex came aroudn the couch and looked at her suspicioiusly. "Did you watch 'A Walk To Remember' again?"  
  
"No," she said with almost a laugh, moving a strand of hair away from her face. "It's just that I realized that life doesn't always turn out the way you want it to. You can only do so many things before something sets you back and you can't do it anymore. And I don't want to lose something in my heart with it."  
  
Alex looked at her with confusion.  
  
She bit her lip. "It's kinda like... well, I want to travel to Europe one of these days. See Paris, Dublin... Italy... What if I keep putting it off until I'm unable to do it?"  
  
Alex nodded with understanding. "Can I see a few?"  
  
She looked at him slyly. "Nah. You'll know what they are when I live them."  
  
He returned her sly smile. He inched closer to her on the couch. Instead of inching away, she followed his lead, moving a little closer.  
  
The phone rang.  
  
Alex didn't bother to hide his groan. Clear was closer to the portable phone, so, feeling at home, she picked it up.  
  
"Hello?" she asked quickly.  
  
"Is this the current residence of Ms. Clear Rivers?" the voice asked.  
  
Clear's face was clouded over with shock. "This is Clear Rivers. Who is this?"  
  
"This is officer Berndt. We spoke at the clinic?"  
  
"Yes," she replied dryly.  
  
"We just recieved a report of an armed liquer store robery." He paused. "Your stepfather held up the store an hour ago... there was a shootout..."  
  
Clear inhaled, knowing what he was going to say.  
  
"Clear, your stepfather is dead." 


	9. Chapter Nine: Downstairs Wheelbarrow Rac...

Hey, doncha know my nickname is Curtis?? Dharke gave it to me when I said I didn't like Em and Fiddy. Yep, Curtis. Dharke will be happy to know that I use that nicnkame wherever I go! Honestly! Everyone loves it! I've also been known to answer to Narbie, Banana, and Frankie.  
  
As for going soft on you, well, I may be slightly unhinged and evil, but I still like to give hugs!!  
  
As for Dharke's hilarious reviews (I acknowlege the other ones too, but Dharke's are unforgettable!) well... OH MY GOD! DHARKE IS DEAD! NOOO! I WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL HER AFTER I FINISHED THE STORY!  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
Tod sunk his teeth into his cheeseburger, watching as Shania Reeves stood on top of a platform with a bullhorn. She was shouting at the ninth-graders who had their faces plunged into messy chocolate pies.  
  
"Don't chew, you wimps!" she cried.  
  
Tod laughed. He looked around him, then at his watch. His friends were kind of slow, but they should have been there by now. There were only twenty minutes left of his lunch before he had to get to gym class. He wanted to do some frosh games with them!  
  
Of course, it didn't help that his friends had been super mopey for the past few days. Billy hadn't been seen all day, nor had he been online all weekend. He was always online. Terry said maybe two words that morning at the lockers. Clear wasn't even there, and Alex wasn't exactly being Mr. Talkative. Worst of all, ever since Friday night, George had been constantly pacing around the room, complaining about Clear, and how he was "so mad at her yet so sorry for her." Tod rolled his eyes. Love sure fucked people up.  
  
Shania held up the hand of one of the winner like a boxer who had just won the title. "AND THE WINNER IS KATIE BLANCHARD!" She handed Katie a bag of Doritos.  
  
Tod laughed. What some people would do for a bag of nacho chips!  
  
"Now, it's time we go back to one of last year's classic events!" Shania screamed, "Last year, the Downstairs Wheelbarrow race between Christa Marsh and Maria Lowell was a close one--you all remember! This year, the rivalry continues! Come on up!"  
  
Christa blushed and walked up to the raised platform. She was followed by Maria Lowell, whom Tod knew was a gymnast or something. She would probably win the race again. The only thing that was so memorable about the race was seeing down their tops while they raced!  
  
"Here's our returning champion, Maria!" Shania cried. Everyone cheered. "And our very close runner up, Christa!" More cheers. "This year," Shania explained, "Things are going to be a little different! It was WAY too easy last year." She pointed to the winding three-story staircase above her head. "You are going to have to do it from the fourth floor to the second floor!" Christa bit her lip nervously. "And you're gonna have to do it blindfolded!" The crowd cheered. "Pick your partners carefully. You'll need their trust!"  
  
Tod, suddenly intrigued at the idea of once again seeing both girls walking on their hands down the stairs, stood up and got closer through the crowd.  
  
Maria chose her partner, her boyfriend, Scott. Christa looked down the platform desperately at Blake. "Blake!" she whispered insistantly.  
  
Blake shook her head no.  
  
"COME ON!" Shania yelled, "Don't make me pick for you!"  
  
Without warning from his own brain, Tod's hand shot up in the air. He began yelling, "I'll do it!"  
  
Shania caught his volunteer.  
  
"You?" she mouthed, making sure he was serious.  
  
"Yeah, me!" he shouted, moreso to his surprise. What was he doing?  
  
He walked through the people onto the platform. He stood next to Christa, following her steps as Shania led them up the stairs. Once at the top, they gazed down at the intense crowd of high-schoolers.  
  
"Creep," Christa murmured as Shania tied on her blindfold.  
  
"Slut," Tod shot back with a grin. Thank god Christa couldn't see how nervous he was.  
  
"Loser."  
  
"Dike."  
  
Maria laughed at them.  
  
Christa leaned to Shania's ear. "Do I really have to... with Tod?" she whispered.  
  
"Could be worse," Shania replied, not returning the quiet tone. "You could be wearing a skirt." She turned to the edge of the stairs and held up the bullhorn. "RACERS--ON YOUR MARKS!" Promptly, Maria did a handstand and swung her legs down until her ankles were in the grasp of her boyfriend. Christa struggled a little more, until Tod nervously got a firm grip around her white socks. "GET SET!" Tod paced himself for the run--would he run? He should just follow Christa. "GO!"  
  
Christa and Maria started off quickly, Scott and Tod fumbling along. At least Scott could keep a grip on Maria's ankles. Tod kept nearly letting go. Christa wasn't exactly steady on her hands either. As Tod tripped along, he shoot, fearing that those heels might go straight into his nads, or that he would step on her hand or something.  
  
They weren't even at the bottom of the first flight when he realized that they would not be able to win at any cost. So he picked up the pace. Might as well go down with some dignity. Christa took his lead, her hands taking longer strides down on the floor as they rounded the corner to the second flight. Maria and Scott were nearly at the bottom.  
  
Unfortunately, Christa's stride went too far. She reached her hand out, expecting to feel the floor. Instead, she was over the stairs, not prepared to lower herself. Her hand flew out of place and she fell heels over head down the stairs, Tod following her, amazingly still holding on to her ankles.  
  
The crowd had mixes of groans, cheers, boos, and laughter. Tod looked down with dismay to see Scott and Maria crossing the finish line. No hope for him and Christa to win.  
  
Christa took the blindfold off her head. She looked at Tod sourly. "Nice going, klutz," she muttered.  
  
"You're the one who missed the stair!" Tod insisted, wanting to prove that he was right. He parked his butt on the stairs and tied his loose shoelace. "I wouldn't talk if I were you."  
  
Christa adjusted her belt and giggled. "I'm sure if I ran like a duck I wouldn't want to admit I was wrong." She smirked.  
  
"A duck? That's the best you got?" He glared at her challengingly. "What are you? In kindergarten?"  
  
"Fag," she said with a mix of anger and laughter.  
  
"Cow," he retalliated.  
  
Shania rolled her eyes and marched up the few steps. "Hate to break up this love-fest, but can I have my blindfold back? It's the ninth-graders' turn."  
  
Christa knelt down to pick up the scarf but Tod beat her to it, causing her to fall flat on her behind. "Here you go!" Tod said brightly as if he didn't notice Christa. He tried to fight his laughter.  
  
"Fuck you," Christa mouthed.  
  
Tod smirked as she began walking. "So, see you in gym?" he asked.  
  
"Bite me," she muttered.  
  
Tod laughed and shook his head as he walked towards the men's room. Behind him, he heard the squeek of running shoes on the floor. He turned around to see his brother behind him.  
  
"What was that about?" George asked, pointing to Christa.  
  
Tod smirked superiorly. "She totally wants me."  
  
"Nice that you think so."  
  
***  
  
Terry secured her curly hair in a tight bun and chewed her gum thuroughly. She tied her shoes tightly and leaned her head back, exhaling her cool breath. She wished that she had seen Clear that day. It would have been good to get some girl support. Especially with everyone weirding out that day. She hadn't even seen Billy all day! Why was she always the last to know things?  
  
Something crossed her mind as she sat uncomfortably on the bleachers. Did Billy know? Did he know that Carter had kissed her? How would he have found out, she had no idea. But it would certainly explain why he wasn't talking to her that day.  
  
'But Carter kissed ME,' she thought. 'Not the other way around.'  
  
Terry watched a junior girl as she lept and flipped across the floor. Terry gulped and inched closer, biting her nails.  
  
"Hey."  
  
She jumped.  
  
Carter sat down next to her. "Nervous?" he asked with that annoyingly self-assured look.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she whispered.  
  
"Watching," he replied.  
  
She groaned. "I suppose you didn't get the idea that I wasn't interested when I told you that I didn't like you?"  
  
He rolled his eyes. "I suppose you didn't get the idea that I'm trying when I told you how much I like you?"  
  
"Go away, Carter!" she hissed. The junior girl switched off the tape player. Terry stood up shakily, more nervous than ever. Her shorts felt uncomfortably tight and her shirt felt too baggy. As she switched her tape on she felt a strand of hair break loose from her bun. The hair swept across her face, making her nose itch. She blew it away and walked quickly to the center of the floor, her back to the judges and her left leg rested beside her right knee in a rotirée.  
  
Terry had worked for over a month on her audition dance. It was more like two dances. She had choreographed one hip-hop/jazz routine, and one strictly gymnastics routine. She practiced both at the same time, switching between the two whenever she felt appropriate.  
  
The first beat of her song came on. She stuck her foot down and twisted around, ready to start her dance part. With a false smile, she stepped to the side, did a sail turn, and repeated it on the other side. She then gulped before she bent her knees and sprang up, flipping herself backwards. She had never been a pro at flips, as she was never thin enough to carry herself like that. But she was learning it.  
  
Once on her feet again, she did a small hop, nearly invisible to the naked eye, her momentum sending her into a quick jazz split. She looked to the side, trying not to see anything... instead she saw Carter, who was... still there.  
  
He was watching her so intently. She shut her eyes and slid up, doing a hip roll as she got up. Her smile was becomming harder and harder to force.  
  
She dipped down, then up again, the concentration on her face throwing off the movements of her body. But she kept going, until she took one step too far.  
  
She stepped on her other foot! Immediately, her heel struck her ankle, and one thing led to another and she was completely thrown off--and thrown to the ground! She looked around, feeling like the world had stopped. But everyone was still there, looking at her closely and pittifully.  
  
Hot tears stung her eyes as she stumbled her way up. Her jaw shook, and her throat felt like it wanted to say something. But her tongue wouldn't move. So a ghaspy sigh came out instead of words. On the verge of her tears spilling out onto her cheeks, she got to her feet and ran out the gym doors.  
  
---  
  
Hey hey, how did you like that? Terry's not gonna be a cheerleader, wah wah wah! (Nothing's perfect in good ol' Mount Aberham!) Anyway, a new "feature," since the chapters are now titled according to Frosh Week activities and I wanted an opportunity to put this in. (Man, I miss Frosh Week... Me and Kyle threw fries down onto the second floor common area... no one noticed.)  
  
Anyway, here is this chapters' theme song.  
  
FORTY FOOT EGO - BRAND NEW DAY  
  
(Carter's Theme)  
  
Never thought I'd say I'm sorry  
  
Never thought I'd be the one to bring you down.  
  
When I look out my window.  
  
There doesn't seem to be anyone around.  
  
And I  
  
I think I'll change my ways.  
  
So all your words get noticed.  
  
Tomorrow's a brand new day.  
  
Tomorrow's a new day. 


	10. Chapter Ten: The Barf Buffet

To my blessed reviewers--hip-hop/jazz DANCE... very different from the music. Last year in my dance recital, I did jazz dance, but it was very hip-hoppish (it was to 'Work it Out' by Beyonce) and it looked surprisingly cool. (Check out my website for a pic of my costume! I look like a magic-eye! And I looke eight.) I've noticed that a lot of the cheerleading routines I've seen on ESPN (oh, and cheerleading and dance ARE sports.) have moves I've seen in jazz dances.  
  
And I have not weelbarrowed down stairs but I have seen people do it. Man... you're only a freshman once... My best Frosh memory? I ran around the common area with my eyelids inside out while 'I Wanna Be Sedated' played over the speakers! ALRIGHT!  
  
Chapter Ten  
  
Terry pushed the door open to the library/computer lab and dropped her bag on the shelves before dragging herself through the security turnstyles for her second period class. She wondered what turnstyles really accomplished in the name of library security. She looked around for Clear, but again, she wasn't at school. What was up with that girl?  
  
She liked her homeroom class, though. There were a lot of girls there that she had been meaning to get to know. And she spent a lot of time arguing her good points and knowlege with the teacher. It was great. But she wasn't in the mood for arguing today. Today, she was in the mood for moping and not speaking to anyone. She slid into her seat.  
  
"Good morning, Mount Aberham High!" boomed the cheery voice of Erin Gauthier, a member of Student Council who's job was screwing up the announcements every day. At least, that's what it might as well have been. "Today's Frosh Week activity is the Barf Buffet--a table full of the most disgusting things you've ever tasted! Any daredevils should truly take this opportunity to prove themselves!" She paused for a moment. "The UIP, or University Information Program, will take place tonight in the William Dawson memorial theatre. Be sure to take time off work because it gives you an opportunity to check out your top three choices." Another pause. "Great turnout at the sophomor cheerleader tryouts yesterday. Congratulations to everyone who tried out. The following lucky girls have made the squad." Terry braced herself. While she knew that she didn't make it, she hated to hear it from someone who didn't know her. "Leandra Dellaire, Natasha Fizzell, Gillian McGovern, Carolyn Perry, Kelsey Rankin, and Shawna Stringer. This concludes tonights announcements."  
  
Terry heaved a huge sigh and leaned her head back. That was just great. Just frickin' great. Now Alex, Billy, George, Tod... they all knew that she had failed. She was ready to sleep the whole period. Yeah. That sounded pretty good. She shut her eyes and leaned forward, resting her forehead on her arms.  
  
"Oh, and one more announcement, a pair of South Park boxer shorts were found in the boys' locker room."  
  
***  
  
Alex looked at the list Clear had given him. His arms were already overflowing with notebooks and binders, and he still had to visit three more teachers. He read over Clear's messy handwriting.  
  
"Music class (Mr. Hyde) - My guitar case, grade 9 piano book, and my binder."  
  
There were a bunch of 'thank you so much' notes here and there through Clear's list. He looked around the nearly-empty hallway. The only other life form in the hall was a senior who was sleeping. He tried to laugh but couldn't get the shake out of his jaw.  
  
Silently, he walked down the stairs and wove his way through the crooked tables in the common area until he reached the doors outside the music room.  
  
He knocked on the door, a tall oak one with cheery pictures of a snail playing a flute, a caterpillar playing a trumpet, and a way-too-happy bumblebee with a trombone between his antenae. Teachers could be such cheezballs sometimes.  
  
Mr. Hyde, tall and skinny with blue eyes and a warm smile came to the door, a clarinet in his hand. A class of freshmen were sitting in the chairs, watching Alex in the doorway.  
  
"Alex," Mr. Hyde greeted him warmly, "What can I do for you?"  
  
Alex sighed, trying to keep the 'nice young man' look on his face. "I have some things to pick up for Clear Rivers."  
  
Mr. Hyde nodded. "She left a few tings here the other night. How come she wasn't here yesterday? Is she sick?"  
  
Alex coughed a little. "Well, it's some personal reasons. She might come to school tomorrow, but she's moving in a week."  
  
***  
  
"Finally!" Tod exclaimed as George and Billy approached the table with trays of food. Billy's face was still, his lower lip between his top and bottom teeth, looking around, like he was checking for someone. He then let go of his lip and sat down at Tod's table.  
  
"What's been up, Hitchcock?" Tod demanded, popping a French fry (I mean FREEDOME FRY!) into his mouth, "Haven't seen you in awhile!"  
  
Billy sighed and rolled his eyes. "Sorry. Just spent the last three days in solitary confinement in an effort to avoid Terry."  
  
George cocked an eyebrow. Apparently, he was as lost as Tod was. "What did she do? Insult you? Cheat on you? Skip a period?"  
  
Billy had to laugh, then his dark expression returned. "B, final answer."  
  
Tod's eyes widened, if that was possible. "You serious? She fooled around with someone? Who?"  
  
Billy grimly took a bite of his chicken burger. "Carter," he mumbled with a mouthefull of food.  
  
"No way!" the brothers exclaimed.  
  
"How did you find out?  
  
Billy had a 'duh' look on his face. "Carter told me," he said simply.  
  
George couldn't help it. He cracked up. "Oh, man," he told Billy with a smirk on his face, looking down at his lunch tray, as he couldn't bare to look the poor guy in the eyes, "You actually fuckin' believed him?"  
  
Billy said nothing.  
  
"Carter lies to everyone!" George exclaimed, "Everyone knows that! I'm around him more than most of you guys, ya know, and he has the instincts of a pathological liar."  
  
That was true. George had known Carter for awhile, not necessarily liking him, but they had met on the football team in ninth grade. Carter made up stories all the time, for glory, for the sake of braging to his teammates. The few people surrounding him that weren't shit-for-brains didn't believe them for a minute.  
  
Billy groaned. "Aw, man! I can't believe it! I've been such a jerk to Terry! I've been avoiding her, and I skipped out on her tryouts... and she didn't make it! Fuck, I am a shitty boyfriend!"  
  
Tod smiled. "Yeah," he agreed smugly, "Yeah, you suck."  
  
Billy glared at him, then went back to talking to George. "Have you seen her?"  
  
George shook his head. "We don't have any of the same classes. Aren't you two in history together?"  
  
"I was so pissed I sat on the other side of the room from her."  
  
George shrugged. "Okay, it'll take you awhile to make it up to her." He looked around. "Hey, wasn't Tod here just a second ago?"  
  
They looked towards the frosh week crowd to see Tod at the table where Shania was announcing the event, the Barf Buffet.  
  
"This'll be good," George said to himself.  
  
***  
  
Tod grinned as he sat down on the table bench in front of three plates, all covered. The beauty of Frosh Week--sophomores could participate as well. And this was one thing he would not let pass him by!  
  
"Okay, the point of the game is, you search all three plates and try to find the worm," Shania was explaining through the bullhorn, "But you can't use your hands! You have to eat everything you touch! After you find the worm, put it on the blue plate, and wash it down with a cup of salt-water!"  
  
Tod rubbed his hands, together, looking at the three plates, then at his two competitors. One by one, the tops were lifted off of the plates. On one was what looked like cat food. On another was a mix of butterscotch pudding and gravy with chunks of God-only-knew-what. The third was a totally unidentifiable chunky grey substance.  
  
"GO!" Shania screamed, and Tod, not hesitating, tore into the cat food. He gagged a little, then, with his face in the plate, he worked himself around the mess. Nothing.  
  
Onto the pudding gravy, he thought to himself. He shut his eyes and dove in, choking on the goopy mixture. Suddenly, working around the plate with his tongue, he found it! The worm, wriggling around underneath the disgusting liquid! He grabbed it triumphantly with his teeth and dropped it on the blue paper plate before anyone else. He accepted the cup of water from Shania, choked down a mouthfull, then got an idea. With his dirty fingers, he grabbed the worm off the plate, popped it in his mouth, and swallowed, rinsing it with the salt water.  
  
The whole crowd grimaced. Tod held his hands up in pride. "YEAH!" he cried, his breath making even his own stomach turn.  
  
He turned to the other tenth-graders, who were staring at him in awe.  
  
"IN YOUR FACE!" he exclaimed. He took a paper napkin and wiped off his face.  
  
He took a colossal chocolate bar from the prize table and walked through the crowd for his table. He stopped halfway, seeing Christa and Blake, who were glaring at him in disgust.  
  
"Hey, Christa!" Tod called to the blonde, "Ever kiss a guy who just ate cat food?"  
  
Christa scoffed and rolled her eyes. Tod's response was licking his lips with a "sexy" wink at her.  
  
---  
  
Journal: Clear Rivers  
  
It is ten to one in the morning right now, and the sound of the heater clicking has been driving me crazy for two hours. I can't believe it, you would think after two months of lying awake at night hearing that bastard hurt my mom, or listening to the sobbing of their room, you would think I would be itching for some sleep.  
  
I'm not.  
  
I don't want to close one eye. I keep finding excuses not to go to sleep. It's like a fear. When I sleep, it feels like I'm asleep for five minutes instead of five hours. I'm just so scared that time is running out. My time here, in Mount Aberham, with my friends...  
  
It'll be gone soon.  
  
Soon, I'm gonna be in Jersey with Aunt Carrie. Mom says it will be good for us. We need 'healing.'  
  
Wasn't that the reason we moved here in the first place???  
  
New Jersey isn't that far from Mount Aberham. If we want to be close to family, why not just drive down on Saturdays or whatever? She can't take me away from my family. Alex, Terry... they're my family. I love them. There is no way I'm gonna leave them. It's not fair. I hate to say it, but it isn't. It will never be fair.  
  
I've got to make the most of my time here. Make every minute seem like an hour.  
  
Even if that means never falling asleep.  
  
~~~  
  
Chapter Theme:  
  
I Don't Wanna Miss A Thing ~ Aerosmith  
  
Clear's Theme  
  
I could stay awake, just to hear you breathing.  
  
Watch you smile while you are sleeping, while you're far away and dreaming.  
  
I could spend my life in this sweet surrender.  
  
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure.  
  
I don't wanna close my eyes.  
  
I don't wanna fall asleep.  
  
'Cause I'd miss you, baby.  
  
And I don't wanna miss a thing.  
  
'Cause even when I dream of you.  
  
The sweetest dream will never do.  
  
I'd still miss you baby.  
  
And I don't wanna miss a thing.  
  
~~~  
  
Appologies for the lateness of this chapter, damn high school... actually, I'm doing great, my average is 86%. Hoorah! My highest mark is English and Art, what a surprise. Dharke, if you think Sparky's a hippy, you haven't met me in person. Well, maybe not a hippy, but I play guitar, I wear weird clothes, have a room full of lava lamps, and like old music. But in my defense, most of that old music is classic rock like ACDC. 


	11. Chapter Eleven: The Blender Blunder

Before Dharke makes a comment about how late this ch. is, just thought I'd let u know that I have been very sick lately. I don't believe in flu shots. They're a scam.  
  
Ah, my lovely reviewers, so dedicated to my story. Hoorah!! Even Dharke, despite the fact that she thinks I'm insane... (foams at the mouth) I am one of the most stable human beings you can find! (crushes full pop can on head and gets showered in Pepsi) Really! Anyway, thanks for the compliments on my site, can you do me a favor? Go to the page with pics from my school trip and tell me if you think Kyle is hot. Someone said that, and I just can't see it...  
  
Oh, and Dharke, I've been meaning to ask, do you hate Clear the character, or do you hate Ali Larter in general? You gotta admit, she's very pretty outside the Clear role. I have a friend that looks a lot like her and she happens to be gorgeous, so it's hard to see the 'beaver teeth.'  
  
Anyway, this chapter contains a lil shout to my buddy 277.  
  
Chapter Eleven  
  
Tod led Alex and George through the front doors of the school. "Day three!" he said smugly, "Wonder what they've got for us today!"  
  
The other two shrugged and turned down the hallway. None of them noticed Clear, who fell into step with them.  
  
"Hey," she said quickly. Tod and George looked around abrubptly at the girl, nearly pushing Alex down with their quick turns. Clear laughed. "Don't look so shocked," she said with a mix of sarcasm and friendliness.  
  
"Clear!" George greeted her, "It feels like you've been gone so long!"  
  
Clear shrugged her shoulders. She opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. "Uh, George, can I talk to you alone?" she asked nervously.  
  
George was shocked, but hid it well, nodding to her, shrugging to his friends, and following Clear in a complete silence to the doors of the mezanine. Clear's face was a little nervous, but still assured, like she had planned out what she would say. She was sitting on a weight bench, her hands resting on her lap.  
  
"George," she said, biting her lip, "I gotta admit, it's been hard."  
  
His hands in his pockets, George raised his eyebrows at his ex-girlfriend. "Could you be more specific? It's been hard without me? It's been hard being away from school? It's been hard with everything? You have to tell me!"  
  
She sighed... and smiled. "George, that's what I realized. I mean, I'm really sorry I was so secretive before. And I'm sorry for thinking that I couldn't trust you, because life's too short to wait and see when I will be able." She reached for the cuff of her blue sweater and pulled it up past her elbow, revealling a nasty, but almost faded bruise. "Do you know what this is?"  
  
Reluctantly, as she was speaking, George sat next to her on the weight bench. "Well, I know it's a bruise, but I don't know what it's from."  
  
For a second, Clear looked like she might throw up. The events of the last five days cast a shadow over her face, and it was still hard to say what she was feeling. "It's from Colin."  
  
George said nothing, but nodded, though shock was on his face, he couldn't find the words to assure Clear, or open his throat to bring them out.  
  
"Colin beat me and my mom. Mostly my mom. And like an idiot, I never stood up to him. I never showed him who was boss..." she shook as if she was crying, but she was beyond tears at this point. No more tears. "I'm not going to drag it out any longer. George, Friday night, Colin raped me."  
  
The three last words each sunk into George's ears, and a second later, he pounded down on the bench, his face maddened. "Fuck! Why didn't you tell me? I'll fucking kill the son of a bitch!"  
  
Clear put her hand on his wrist. "You won't have to. He died in a robery on Saturday afternoon." George's face faltered, and he went back to listen mode. "Anyway," she continued, "My mom... she just can't deal. I don't know why. I don't know what's stopping her from trying. But whatever it is, we're gonna be moving to New Jersey next week."  
  
No reaction from George.  
  
"George?" she asked, "Are you listening?"  
  
George's head snapped up and he looked her in the eye again. "Yeah," he mumbled. "You just told me everything I wanted you to tell me. And don't get me wrong, I feel terrible for what's happened to you. But... it feels so good to know now." He put his arm around her. "Only I guess it's too late for us."  
  
She pushed his hand off with a smile. "Big time."  
  
He laughed. For a second, they sat there in silence, but the silence was good, because neither of them were trying to make conversation.  
  
"Can I ask you a question?" George asked after what felt like forever, "Do you like Alex?"  
  
Clear glanced up at him, a serious look on her face. "Are you asking me so you can tell him?"  
  
George laughed. "That's a yes."  
  
She shook her head. "But you won't tell him, will you?  
  
George couldn't laugh again. "Of course not," he promised.  
  
They left.  
  
Together.  
  
***  
  
Journal: Terry Chaney  
  
And just when I thought things couldn't get weirder.  
  
So, Clear is finally back today, and she told me everything. We both skipped first period so that we wouldn't have to be seperated. We kind of sympathized with each other for awhile, and I'm just so angry that she's moving that it's not funny. She's been one of my best friends for so long now!  
  
Only here's where things got weird. We were in the locker area and we see Billy at the snack machine. Before I can even talk to him, he rounded the corner, and it was like, poof! He was gone! I can't believe him! How can he avoid me the way he is? That's stupid! I'm his girlfriend!  
  
Am I?  
  
---  
  
Carter clicked his pen twice, looked at his desk, shifted his feet, glared at the teacher, and then at his work. What the hell did 'école' mean?  
  
His friend, Robbie, looked at him, then pointed at the lame Mr. Murneau, who had his lips pursed together in such concentration that he looked like a constipated duck. The two boys broke out into laughs.  
  
Mr. Murneau looked up, his duck lips straightened into two pink lines that looked like part of a baboon's ass. Carter couldn't help it, he laughed harder.  
  
"Carter, Robert," Mr. Murneau asked in what everyone guessed was a fake French accent, "Avez-vous un problème?"  
  
Carter and Rob tried not to laugh, but didn't quite cut it.  
  
Mr. Murneau sighed defeatedly. "Au bureau," he instructed them. Carter knew what that meant. He and Robbie stood up and left the classroom, snickering as they walked through the door.  
  
"That was worth it!" he told his friend proudly.  
  
"Fuck yeah!" Robbie agreed. "I don't care if I get a million detentions--they don't fuckin' teach you anything anyway!"  
  
Carter looked at him strangely. "Fuck, man, we're not GOING to the office. Didn't I teach you anything?"  
  
Robbie pretended to laugh. "I was just fucking with you!"  
  
"Doubt it," Carter murmured.  
  
They smiled and walked through the hall smugly to the nearest door when they saw Terry and Clear emerging from the girls' bathroom.  
  
"Terry!" Carter taunted flirtaciously.  
  
The blonde didn't turn around.  
  
"Terry!" Carter called more insistantly.  
  
She still faced away from him .  
  
Inside, he wondered what he did. Of course, it was nothing he had done that was making her cry the way she was.  
  
***  
  
For once, there were more than three people at the lunch table. Only Billy was absent at the time. Terry bit her lip in confusion, then her face reddened, possibly from anger. Only Clear noticed.  
  
"So, how is everyone?" Alex asked in his cheerfull voice.  
  
They all groaned.  
  
Okay, so maybe they were all together, but in the long run, it felt like they were miles apart.  
  
"Uh... well this is a start," he muttered.  
  
Tod grinned. "If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." He stood up and walked with a grin to the Frosh Week table. Shania was there as always, wearing a baggy old Beatles T-shirt and a red trucker hat. "This event is by far the tastiest!"  
  
Tod noticed a few people get suspiciously green.  
  
"All who dare enter this competition step forward!"  
  
On que, Tod and four other kids stepped forward.  
  
"Since this even is quite stomach-churning," Shania said, reaching into her pocket, "The winner will revieve two free admision tickets to the Frosh Week dance!"  
  
Tod rolled his eyes. Like he would be caught dead at that. Still, this was about the glory, not the prize.  
  
Shania began walking across the area introducing the five contestants. She introduced Tod last. "Tod Waggner has participated in every Frosh Week event so far!" she informed the crowd, as if no one knew that, "This game is going to be my favourite!"  
  
Tod's eyes darted from side to side suspiciously. That couldn't be good.  
  
"We'll start with Tod!" Shania was going on. "Tod," she said way too loudly, "What's your favourite lunch from the cafeteria?"  
  
Tod didn't have to think. "Hands down the double jalapeno burger." That was great. Maybe he would get a free one!  
  
Shania wrote that down and went down the line of competetors. The five guys sat down on the bench, and two minutes later, Shania returned with a cafeteria tray full of food.  
  
Tod was starting to regret placing his order the second he saw the blender. Pete Ryan, another Student Council exec, had pulled the appliance out of whoever knew where. He plopped it down, drew the cord into the wall.  
  
"Oh, fuck," Tod groaned to himself as he witnessed one kids' cheese fries poured into the blender. Pete switched on the machine, and suddenly, before Tod's eyes, twirled a greyish, brownish, sick mess.  
  
The tenth-grader gaped when the blender was switched off. He accepted the cup with shakey hands, bringing it closer to his mouth until he poured the mess into his mouth--and choked it right back out.  
  
"AW MAN!" he exclaimed, "THAT'S NASTY!"  
  
The crowd booed. Tod's insides did flip-flops. The next two guys followed the actions of the first, the fourth downing about half of his chicken-burger shake before gagging and begging to stop.  
  
"Good job, buddy," Tod muttered as he patted the guy on the back, wondering how he would defend his self-proclaimed title as Frosh King.  
  
"Tod's turn!" the roudy blonde prompted.  
  
Tod shook as he watched his beloved burger being poured into the Hamilton Beach. He felt he had to turn away, yet his eyes were fixed on the swirling mess that had become of his former favourite meal.  
  
"Ya ready, buddy?" Shania asked testily.  
  
"Yeh... I uh..." he trailed off. There was no protesting when he was handed the jug. Trying to think of how he would let go of his sense of taste, he reluctantly poured the goo into his mouth and let it trickle down his throat.  
  
His tongue cramped at the feeling as he attempted to force more down into his stomach. The nasty mass of pureed burger was a greenish one, the only thing a greener shade was that of Tod's face. Finally, with no strength left in his tongue, he put the jug down, heeping his head back so that the rest of the chunky juice could seap down his throat.  
  
"Oh, my God!" Shania exclaimed, disgusted for the first time all week, "Here are your tickets, now go brush your teeth!"  
  
Tod took the tickets and began making his way to the bathroom to blow chunks. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by Christa, who, for the first time, was turning on her temptress charm to the skinny boy.  
  
"Tod," she asked softly, trying to turn on the sex appeal, "Uh... you got someone to give that ticket to?"  
  
Tod glared at her. "Well, I have friends, you know."  
  
"But I'm sure they can pay their own way in."  
  
Tod's eyes darted from side to side, giving himself a duh-duh look. "You're like the richest girl in ninth grade."  
  
"That's Blake," she corrected him.  
  
"Whatever," Tod muttered, "You two are pretty much interchangeable."  
  
"Ouch," Christa mocked, "That hurts me sooo much."  
  
"Well, look, I'm not about to pass up my ticket to someone who's only purpose in life is to--"  
  
He was cut off when Christa, in a ballzy move, snatched one of the yellow stubs from his hand. She put it in her pocket. "Thanks!" she teased, before walking away.  
  
Tod would have ran after her, easily catching up. Only he still really needed to barf.  
  
***  
  
"He's gone temporarily insane."  
  
Clear was attempting to reassure Terry of her problems with Billy as she went through her locker after school, periodically dropping things in the garbage can nearby.  
  
"Temporarily means he'll be sane again at some point."  
  
"That's my point."  
  
Terry felt bad for moping, especially with all of Clear's problems, so she was trying to keep a good outlook. However, it was just a little hard when she had no idea where she stood with a guy she thought was her boyfriend.  
  
"How can you have so much shit in your locker after less than a week of school?" Terry asked Clear suspiciously as she ran her hand through the messy pile of papers, books, and random items.  
  
"I'm a bit of a pack-rat," Clear confessed, peeling a crinkly poster of her favourite hottie, Kerr Smith, off the door of her locker. "Hey, ever notice how Carter looks a lot like this guy?" she asked Terry.  
  
Terry shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Don't watch Dawson's Creek."  
  
"You should," Clear told her.  
  
Terry shook her head, trying to keep her mind off of guys for a few minutes. She skimmed her hand over the things on the top shelf. She came across pictures, some of Clear's old friends from where she used to live, some of Clear's German sheperd puppy, and one that especially caught her eye.  
  
It was the only picture with Clear in it, though her face was turned away from the camera, not in embarassment, but in laughter. Terry, to her own shock, was also in the picture, in the same state as Clear. The two each had a fun, carefree look about them, but most interestingly, they were each slung under Carter Horton's shoulders.  
  
It was taken at the lake. Probably from the day of the birthday party. Thinking back to the moment, Terry could almost feel the foamy surf tickling her feet, the sting in her eyes from the bright sun, and the laughter of her friends ringing in her ear. She remembered her thoughts, her thoughts that everything had worked out, that Carter would be her friend, and that she would go back home feeling like she truly had changed.  
  
But now things had changed more than ever. Carter wasn't her friend. Things weren't perfect, for anyone.  
  
Why couldn't she have that piece of paradise back?  
  
Wishing she could, she suddenly got an idea.  
  
***  
  
Beads of water dripped from the jock's hair to his forehead, his heart still pounding from the sprints he had done up and down the football field. Even after his shower, he still felt like he was running. He had beaten his own personal record. Feeling proud, he approached his locker in the empty hallway.  
  
He noticed it right away. It was like a small piece of paper, sticking out of the crack in his door. He grabbed it, focusing his sight on the picture he had in his hand.  
  
It was a picture he had never seen before. Possibly the only picture of him and Terry together. Of coruse, Clear was in the picture as well, so it was more of a friend thing.  
  
Was he ever just friends with Terry? His memories flooded back to the lake and all the fun he had there.  
  
Feeling guilty, he searched for a place do discard the photograph. Doing so, he noticed the marks of pencil on the back. It was a girl's handwriting. Intrigued, he scanned it with his eyes.  
  
'Carter --  
  
Remember this?  
  
Terry'  
  
Carter tried to think of what she meant by 'this.'  
  
Then he realized.  
  
***  
  
Terry slammed the back door of her house, wishing she had someone to talk to. Every time she said good-bye to Clear, it felt like she was preparing herself for the big good-bye. She was feeling something strange, something she felt she needed to talk about.  
  
"Terry," her mom greeted fakely, still possibly upset from the events that had occured days earlier, "Can you help peal potatoes with me?"  
  
Terry didn't want to be in the same room as the woman, but knew she would be up to her shoulders in shit if she said no. She didn't, however, bother to hide her disslike of the activity. "Sure."  
  
Mrs. Chaney motioned her into the kitchen, where Terry could smell baked chicken in the oven. "How was school?"  
  
"Boring."  
  
"Something must have happened."  
  
"No," Terry replied coldly.  
  
"Well I'm sure you didn't just go through your day like--"  
  
"If you're referring oh-so-subtly to me and Billy, we're over, okay?"  
  
Terry's mom didn't know what to say, except, "When did this end?"  
  
"Today," Terry grumbled the lie, since nothing officially had ended yet.  
  
"Well..." Mrs. Chaney mused, searching for a politically correct way of saying she was pleased, "You made a good descision."  
  
---  
  
Chapter Theme  
  
Oldeander - Bruise  
  
George's Theme  
  
She holds her head within her hands  
  
Quietly reeling  
  
If only he could understand  
  
What she's feeling  
  
She moves in to me  
  
To kiss my shoulder  
  
With emergency  
  
For me to hold her  
  
(Me to hold her)  
  
It's all I want, when I want  
  
She's all I need, when it's all  
  
It's all I have  
  
When I lose it's just a  
  
Bruise 


	12. Epilogue and such

Epilogue  
  
Since I obviously started the sequel (when all the death shit starts) here is a conclusion to this story:  
  
TERRY/BILLY/CARTER: Billy attempted to reconcile with Terry, who, in the end, felt too guilty to go back to Billy. She was too embarassed to talk to the others and at the Frosh Dance ended up hanging out with Carter and his friends. Several days later, the two hooked up.  
  
TOD/CHRISTA/SHANIA: Christa stole one of Tod's tickests to the Frosh dance and he never did get it back, but he did go to the dance solo and have, as anyone like him would have, a craptacular time. He spent the whole time helping student council sell drinks - which in the end brought him closer to Shania. For about a month they stayed "Just friends," until it was just randomly made official. He still likes to call Christa a cow, though.  
  
ALEX/CLEAR: While helping Clear pack her boxes, Alex and Clear did the akward spur-of-the-moment kiss thing, then totally fucked it up. Before Clear moved, Alex promised he would always be her friend first.  
  
So...... yay. 


End file.
